The Tide:

Salvage

(The Tide Series Volume 3)

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Anthony J Melchiorri

March, 2016

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Table of Contents

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Also by Anthony J Melchiorri

About the Author

Books by Anthony J Melchiorri

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The Tide Series

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The Tide (Book 1)

Breakwater (Book 2)

Salvage (Book 3)

Deadrise (Book 4)

Iron Wind (Book 5)

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The Eternal Frontier

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Eternal Frontier (Book 1)

Edge of War (Coming 2017)

Shattered Dawn (Coming 2017)

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Black Market DNA

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Enhancement (Book 1)

Malignant (Book 2)

Variant (Book 3)

Fatal Injection

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Other Books

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The God Organ

The Human Forged

Darkness Evolved

The Tide: Salvage

Copyright © 2016 by Anthony J. Melchiorri. All rights reserved.

First Edition: March 2016

http://AnthonyJMelchiorri.com

Cover Design: Eloise Knapp Design

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

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-1-

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Roof of the Massachusetts General Hospital

Boston, Massachusetts

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Abby was dead. Her once sky-blue eyes were bloodshot. Hair lay splayed around her head like the rays of a setting sun. But it no longer gleamed brilliant blond. A sickly gray had replaced the color—and it had spread through her skin. The woman Navid Ghasemi loved had been taken from him by a twisted biological agent. A single scratch from one of the infected had doomed her.

He was used to cutting-edge biomedical science. He’d been devoted to his work in the Center for Neurodegenerative Diseases. In fact, he’d almost finished his PhD, studying new ways to deliver drugs to the brain. He had once believed science was the fountain of innovation, inspiration, and hope. Now he wondered if he’d been a fool.

Navid stood, alone, on the roof of Boston’s Mass General Hospital, where once the brightest doctors and researchers had saved countless lives. But all the life-saving advancements made since the discovery of penicillin to the latest in nanoparticles and stem cells hadn’t stopped this biological agent from transforming people into abominable, nightmarish creatures.

And even in her death, that agent continued Abby’s demonic metamorphosis. Crooked horns like those of a goat curled from her forehead. Her shriveled, dried skin had given way to mottled, yellow scales—a mutated organic armor had grown from Abby’s bones and worked its way through her flesh. Her fingers, once boasting perfectly manicured nails that were usually painted purple, now ended in serrated hooks.

He gazed at her left hand, focusing on the twisted, scarred ring finger that would now forever remain bare. Almost three weeks ago, Navid had declined Abby’s offer of running away for the weekend to the Vermont woods. Instead, he’d spent most of the weekend working in the laboratory and writing a research paper for a science journal. It had been almost three years to the day since they’d taken a vacation together, so Navid had compromised with an afternoon of meandering through Boston Commons. Abby had stopped to look at the engagement rings in a jewelry store window, and he was ashamed to remember the anxiety he’d felt as she admired the diamonds. They’d talked about a future together, of course. Abby had meticulously planned it, from the house in nearby Newton to their two kids, a boy and a girl, and their adopted puppy. She had planned for everything—everything except this. Navid grabbed a bottle of water from the backpack next to him and took a sip. He wished, more than anything, that he’d bought her a ring and whisked her away to Vermont.

But wishes and dreams wouldn’t change the nightmare he lived in now. The nightmare he lived in alone. Without Abby. Without anyone.

He glanced at the broad white letters he’d painted on the roof: SOS. In the days he’d spent up here, no one had responded. There’d been no flyovers from government or civilian craft. The only voices he’d heard were those of the crazies below. Their monstrous bellows and howls carried up around him night and day. He’d slept in fits, always wondering when those things might catch his scent on the hot, muggy breeze. When would they climb up here and end his misery?

He closed the plastic bottle and slid it into his backpack. It clunked in next to the two bottles he had left. His stomach grumbled, but he had nothing to offer it. Despite the water, his tongue still felt dry and bloated. But he didn’t dare drink more. He needed to ration the water while he waited for someone to come rescue him.

He forced a laugh. It sounded sinister, even to his own ears. He knew no one was coming, yet he clung to the hope of deliverance.

Abby continued to stare at him with those dead, red eyes. They weren’t hers anymore, not really. Abby’s eyes had sparkled with life and intelligence, with love and good humor. He couldn’t take it anymore, and he turned away to look out over the lip of the roof. He wrapped his fingers around the gray stone, warmed by the relentless sun, and peered over the edge. Crazies milled about in the street. They lumbered in clumsy paths like drunks stumbling home after last call. Navid wondered if they were as hungry and exhausted as him.

One short jump would end it all. Mere seconds and this new hell he’d found himself in would be over. Abby would no longer stare up at him as if to ask why he hadn’t loved her enough to run from the city, why he’d let her succumb to this biological atrocity. Why he’d let her become this horror that lay before him.

A tear rolled down his cheek, and he slumped back to sit against the lip of the roof. I’m sorry, Abby, he thought. God, I’m so sorry. He wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but more came until he sobbed into his palms like a child. He didn’t care. He’d lost Abby. He’d lost the goddamned world.

What did it matter now if he lost his life?

An unseasonably warm wind curled past his face, tickling his skin. He steeled himself to jump, but then he pulled back from the edge.

Goddammit, what am I doing?

He walked toward Abby and picked up the bloodied ax that lay next to her. James, the selfish coward who’d put his own safety above everything else, had tried to kill Abby with this ax. In the end, both James and Abby had died, and Navid’s right hand had become a bloodied, swollen mass of flesh. Navid was afraid he’d broken at least a couple of fingers when the old professor attacked.

Bastard. 

With his good hand, he hefted the ax. The blade glistened in the sunlight, and Navid trudged to the edge of the roof. He rotated the ax handle in his grip for a while then set it down next to him. With only two and a half bottles of water left, he decided tonight would be his last night on the roof. He couldn’t keep denying what he’d known all along: no one was going to save him. He’d die of thirst and hunger up here if he didn’t do something.

But trying to make his move in the middle of the day, when the sun was at its highest in the autumnal sky and those things could easily spot him from a mile away, wouldn’t be wise. He tucked his knees close to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, and glanced at Abby once more before he dragged his meager belongings along the edge of the roof to a new position where her judgmental, dead eyes could no longer condemn him. He settled against the low brick wall, and exhaustion soon pulled him into a fitful sleep.

Vivid dreams played across Navid’s mind. There he was with Abby, walking hand in hand along the Charles River. Then he was sitting across from her at the dimly lit Kelsey’s Irish Bar & Grill, then they were in Toronto with his parents and sister, all smiling as they sipped hot cocoa and watched a Maple Leafs game on TV. A puck zoomed across the ice, bursting from the television. Navid dodged it, pulling Abby into his arms, protecting her. An ice skate the size of a refrigerator came next, cutting across the living room, scraping the walls. Abby screamed.

The scraping grew louder, and Navid’s eyes jolted open. His dreams disappeared into the fog of his unconscious. Adrenaline surged through him. Instinctively, he grabbed the ax. Sweat trickled across his brow as he slowly stood. He held his breath and listened. There! He heard it again. The scrape of something against concrete. A rattle like rusted wind chimes clanking together. His blood ran cold. 

He crept along the roof until he came to the square structure. Behind it was where he’d left Abby. It also seemed to be the source of the noise. Had Abby—or rather the thing that Abby had become—risen? Navid had no idea how the biological agent worked. Anything seemed possible.

He inhaled sharply then pushed past his fear. With the ax cocked back, ready in his clammy grip, he swiveled around the corner of the stairwell entrance. Abby was still sprawled, unmoving, across the ground. But Navid’s stomach lurched when he heard the scraping and rattling again. He focused on the sounds and realized they were coming from the roof just past her corpse. He darted forward and peered over the edge.

A monster was scaling the wall about a dozen yards below. Its bone-plated arm stretched up, and its claws found the grooves in the brickwork. Bright yellow-and-purple sportswear clung to its body, the fabric shredded by the spikes jutting from its skin. Evidently a cyclist in its previous life, the creature had taken up a new sport. It scrambled toward Navid like some macabre rock climber. Its mottled crimson eyes locked with his, and a low growl escaped its cracked lips.

“Shit,” Navid muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The thing had seen him. He knew the monster wouldn’t leave him alone now. On the roof, he had nowhere to hide. When he’d first fled from the creatures in the hospital, he’d engaged the internal locks on the stairwell doors. It had been a last-ditch effort to escape the crazies chasing him, but now it trapped him on the roof. Panic swelled as he tried to conjure an escape plan.

The monster hooked one set of claws over the squat brick wall along the roof’s edge. It pushed itself up and lifted a leg over. Navid rushed the creature and struck with the ax. The blade bit into the side of the monster’s head, cracking bone and spraying blood. The beast snapped and swung its claws wildly. Navid planted a foot into the monster’s chest and yanked on the ax with all the strength he could muster. The ax whipped free, and the beast stumbled. It toppled into open space, its limbs flailing and a loud, earsplitting shriek escaping its lips.

Navid watched the thing fall. It slammed into the roof of an ambulance with a splatter. The noise drew the attention of the nearby creatures. They lurched from their stupors, and cries and yells echoed up around the dozens of mutated humans below. Their heads whipped around, searching for prey. One looked up, and Navid ducked back.

He held his breath, praying the creatures hadn’t noticed him. The scrape and rattle of the monsters’ strange skeletal armor sounded out, along with a long, drawn-out wail. Navid risked another glance. Shivers tore through his flesh, and adrenaline coursed through him anew. He’d fended off the lone crazy, but now twenty more scaled the hospital. He saw one with horns protruding from its forehead like Abby’s; another had shoulder blades sticking out of its back like strange shark fins. The remnants of suits hung around the mutated limbs of two others, and a few crazies wore scrubs stained with blood. The long, shredded black-and-yellow coat of a firefighter draped from another.

Navid tightened his grip around his ax. Ever since he’d painted the SOS on the roof, he’d been hoping someone would see him alive and awaiting rescue. Now, someone had. It just wasn’t who he’d had in mind.

-2-

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Captain Dominic Holland stood in the bridge of the Huntress. The sleek gray bow of the ship cut through the choppy water of the Massachusetts Bay. His grizzled first mate, Thomas Hampton, leaned over a map of the city that Dom had spread out. Officer of the Watch Cliff Slaton brushed a hand through his sandy-blond hair. His weathered, tanned skin told of a lifetime at sea. Even his blue-green eyes seemed to hold a piece of the Atlantic in them. These were the men Dom trusted most to take care of the Huntress and keep the ship and crew in working order during the mission ahead.

Dom glanced at the map Thomas was studying and then pointed to a spot on the chart. “Bring her in here.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Cliff said. “I can take her in closer if need be. The waters run deep through this part of the bay.”

“Good to know,” Dom said. “But I want to keep a healthy distance from the city. Best not to announce our presence to the Skulls.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Dom walked along the fore of the bridge. He peered out over the crashing whitecaps toward Boston. Smoke drifted up between sheer glass skyscrapers. The cables that had once held the Bunker Hill Memorial Bridge steady were snapped and dangling. Pieces of the highway dipped into the Charles River.

Thomas looked up from the chart and stared at the bridge. “Must’ve been another casualty of General Kinsey’s quarantine attempts.”

“Most likely,” Dom agreed. He wondered how scarred other cities must look. General Kinsey’s efforts to quell the Oni Agent outbreak by ordering strategic airstrikes had been a mistake. Gutting the interstates and highways to prevent people from escaping quarantined zones in the early days of the epidemic had done little to curb the Agent from tearing its way across the United States. From the last reports sent by Fort Detrick, it sounded as though every major US city had been ravaged. And smaller towns had fared no better. Skulls outnumbered healthy Americans, prowling the streets from New York to Seattle and everywhere in between.

“Applying astern propulsion now, Captain,” Cliff said.

The ship’s engines were surrounded by an acoustic damping chamber to improve the Huntress’s covert capabilities. As Cliff pulled back on the main control handle, the noise escaping the engine room was no more than a loud humming. Such a sound might’ve been too subtle for the untrained ear, but Dom appreciated the immense power behind the muffled roar of the engines. The ship slowed in its final approach. Dom waited for the hum of the engines to cease, and the Huntress came to a drift.

“Drop anchor,” he ordered.

The portside anchor splashed into the ocean from near the stern of the ship. The thick chains, clinking and rattling, followed into the water after it. Dom didn’t wait for Cliff to finish anchoring the Huntress. After years of service aboard the ship, he knew the man could handle it. He climbed down the ladders to the lower deck with Thomas and then followed a passageway to the cargo bay.

Hunters milled about the expansive chamber, cleaning their weapons, loading magazines, and stocking a Zodiac with supplies. They had made a separate pile of supplies next to the port hatch, ready to be loaded in the helicopter. He nodded a brief greeting at Andris Jansons, who was packing a sniper rifle. Next he saw Miguel Ruiz helping Terrence Connor dole out smoke grenades and C4. Dom had long since learned the Skulls could be unpredictable, and he wanted to be prepared for any and all types of engagements on this mission. Lauren Winters directed her medical team as they loaded up the Zodiac with emergency medical provisions and prepared small boxes for biological sample collections.

This was the first time they’d had more than a few hours to plan and prepare for one of their self-directed missions to combat the Oni Agent. They’d spent the entire day traveling up from Baltimore to prepare for tonight. Still, Dom wondered if it was enough.

“Hunters, fall in!” His voice echoed in the hold.

The men and women of the elite group of covert operatives rushed to line up in front of Dom. They stood before him clad in their black fatigues and boots, their expressions stern. But Dom knew them well enough to see the exhaustion seeping through them, the fear the Skulls had instilled within them, and the pain from the memories of those they’d already lost in the battle against the Oni Agent.

Dom tapped on the six-foot-tall LCD monitor, and a map of Boston lit up. He pointed toward a complex of buildings. “This is the Massachusetts General Hospital. We’ve been unable to establish any kind of communications. No medical or research personnel have responded to our radio broadcasts. All telephone services are down.”

The image zoomed in on one building’s roof, where a large white SOS had been painted. “Here’s why we’re going in. This building houses the Center for Neurodegenerative Diseases. We identified one potential survivor.” A red circle surrounded a man sitting on the roof.

“Is that...is that a Skull next to him?” Renee Boland asked.

“It is,” Dom said. “We believe it’s dead, judging by our time-lapse surveillance. As far as we can tell, he’s the only living thing on the roof, human or Skull. Point is, we need access to the labs in that building, and we want to minimize the risk of running into Skulls. If we’re lucky, this guy can tell us exactly where we want to go.”

“And if we’re not lucky, Chief?” Miguel asked, clenching and unclenching the fingers on his prosthetic arm.

Dom didn’t want to think about risking his Hunters’ lives in another extended engagement with the hostile monsters. He couldn’t stand to lose another crew member. But getting to the research labs within Mass Gen could help them find a candidate drug or pharmaceutical molecule to destroy the prion component of the Oni Agent. If they prevented the prions from damaging the brain, then they effectively prevented the Oni Agent from turning people into cannibalistic monsters. Regardless of the risk to himself and his crew, they needed to do this. “Lauren says Mass Gen might hold the key to developing a vaccine or cure for the Agent. We’re going to find it. So if we’re unlucky, if we’re forced to scour the entire facility, we’ll do it.” He tapped the HK45C in his side holster. “And we’ll deal with the Skulls like we always have.”

***

Kara Holland pulled open the hatch to the medical bay. The familiar scent of the sterile air brought back the recent memories of her time in one of the patient beds. A furry body pushed past her legs and ran into the bay.

“Maggie!” Kara reeled for a second before she placed a hand on the bulkhead, preventing herself from falling. Lauren might’ve given her the okay to leave the medical bay, but her body was still weak. The golden retriever whined, evidently realizing Kara was in distress, and galloped back to her. She pressed her cold, wet nose against Kara’s palm.

“It’s okay, girl.”

The dog’s tail beat the air as she followed Kara, more carefully now, into the chamber. Several empty beds were secured against the bulkhead. In the neighboring isolation ward, Kara saw two hunters, Ivan and Scott, who had been infected by the Oni Agent. Biomonitoring equipment surrounded their bedsides, but they appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Kara knew the truth. It was only the medically induced coma that prevented the two men from waking up in a frantic rage.

Maggie pressed her nose against the acrylic partition, leaving a wet trail. She whined, and Kara tousled the fur between the dog’s ears. “The Oni Agent sucks, doesn’t it?”

The dog’s tail wagged more furiously, and she rubbed against Kara’s legs and licked her hands. Kara wished she could feel as happy and optimistic as her dog. She’d wanted to help her father since she’d reunited with him in Frederick. Divya, another of the Huntress’s doctors, and Lauren had devised a way, but it wasn’t what she expected. Kara had figured they would have her washing beakers or reading research papers—something that didn’t require a PhD in bioengineering. But instead, they’d asked her to do the impossible. They’d asked her to help find a cure for the prions.

“How are you doing?” A woman’s voice sounded from behind Kara.

She spun to see Divya in a white lab coat. Sweat trickled down the doctor’s brow. She carried a laptop.

“Better every day.” Kara gestured to the bandages on her face, which covered the claw marks from her own run-in with the Skulls. She’d been lucky to survive the encounter. “Still itches, though. You just get back from helping prep for the Boston mission?”

“That’s right. They’re going to need me back there, so I won’t have much time. But this should be pretty easy.”

“Finding a cure for the Oni Agent is going to be easy?” Kara asked, incredulous.

“Before you can find gold, you have to learn how to use the pickax.” Divya set the laptop up on a counter. “That’s the easy part.”

“Doesn’t sound too reassuring.”

“What? You don’t want to help anymore?” Divya gave her a sly grin as the laptop booted.

“No, I’m definitely in,” Kara said. “I just worry I won’t be much help.”

“You might surprise yourself.” Divya adjusted the laptop screen so Kara could see. She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of clattering footsteps interrupted her. She and Kara turned to the hatch of the medical bay.

“Hey!” Sadie said, panting and brushing back her long auburn hair. “I thought you were going to wait for me!”

“You were napping,” Kara said. Her sister had insisted on joining in whatever mystery task Lauren and Divya had lined up for Kara. To her surprise, Lauren and Divya had said Sadie could actually help, too.

“You could’ve woken me!”

“Fine, sorry,” Kara said. “But Divya’s in a hurry.”

Sadie seemed to ignore Kara’s urgency, her eyes locking on the laptop. “Do I get one, too?”

“Sure, we can scrounge one up for you.” Divya moused over to a desktop icon and loaded an application. “This is a program called FoldIt. Ever heard of it?”

A brief glimmer of recognition sparked a distant memory in Kara. She recalled a story her biology professor had told her in class. “Didn’t some gamers use it to identify a protein involved in HIV replication?”

“Exactly! You know your stuff,” Divya said. The program opened, and colorful, spindly shapes displayed on the screen.

“Those look like Tinkertoys,” Sadie said.

Divya clicked on one of the shapes and altered it to form a structure that looked like an octopus. “Normally, we use computer simulations to concoct and test different molecules’ effects on pathogens.”

“So we’ll be playing with molecules to destroy the prions,” Kara said.

Divya nodded. “I already loaded some samples on your computer to try. You’ve got a few different molecules and other therapeutics like drugs and proteins. You can customize the molecules and then test them on the prions from the Oni Agent. You get points for designing molecules with lower activation energies or correct intermolecular bonds—all the fun stuff you learned in chemistry.”

“Got it,” Kara said. “But why are we playing a game to solve this? Can’t your team run a bunch of computer simulations instead?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. We’re running as many simulations as we can. But computers can only perform brute calculations.” Divya tapped her temple. “They don’t have the intuition and creativity people have.”

“So if we get good at this, there’s a chance we could design a molecule or protein or something that can be used as a cure or vaccine for the Oni Agent?”

“Absolutely,” Divya said as she slid the laptop toward Kara.

“Cool!” Sadie’s face lit up. “We’re going to play video games to save the world. I can’t wait to tell Dad!”

-3-

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The sound of boots on the metal deck echoed across the cargo bay. Meredith Webb watched the Hunters moving between the Zodiac and the boxes of supplies. Lauren walked toward her, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

The doctor folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against a crate. “Got some time to talk?”

“Definitely.” Meredith wouldn’t be going anywhere until the teams headed out for Boston at nightfall. “Happy to help any way I can.”

“Good. I’ll cut to the chase.” She gestured at Sean McConnelly, the resident epidemiologist, as he packed a first aid kit. “Sean mapped the spread of the Oni Agent. Between lab experiments, we’ll work with Chao to see if we can’t find more outbreak patterns.”

“Understood. So what do you need from me?”

“We’re still hoping we can find out if there were other production facilities or labs out there. I mean, places besides the International Biologics at Sea Lab on that oil rig that may have been involved with the Oni Agent’s production.”

“Right. If I knew who sent me that memo about the IBSL in the first place...” Meredith let the words trail off. The memories of those first few days after she had received the ominous message at the CIA headquarters haunted her. She wondered if she should’ve put more pressure on David Lawson, her division’s director. He’d promised he would take care of the situation, but she hadn’t trusted him. And now she figured she was right to have felt that way. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if things might’ve gone differently if she had tried to expose the cover-up sooner.

“Did you learn anything else while you were digging around at the CIA? Maybe there were other labs being surveyed? Anything you suspect may be tangentially involved with the Oni Agent.” Lauren’s brow creased in thought. “Or maybe there was some classified terrorist group you knew about that might have even a remote chance of playing a role in all this.”

“I wish I had the answers,” Meredith began, “but I told Dom everything I know. Whatever Lawson and his cronies were hiding, it was pretty well buried.”

“Figured that’d be the case,” Lauren said, “but since we haven’t really had a chance to sit down and talk, thought I’d ask.” She offered Meredith a sympathetic smile. “Thanks, though.”

Meredith watched Lauren join the medical team. The group exited through the hatch. She wished she could help. But she had no new intelligence, and now that she’d officially gone rogue, she could no longer tap into her CIA network. She’d volunteered to join the Hunters, and she had to get used to her new role as one of Dom’s commandos. It had been years since she’d spent time in the field, but she wasn’t about to while away the apocalypse lounging on the Huntress as the threat of humanity’s extinction loomed ever closer.

***

The first of the crazies slipped over the edge of the roof. It snarled and scrambled toward Navid. The creature sprinted with its claws outstretched, a howl escaping its mouth. Its tattered suit jacket flapped as it leapt.

Navid swung the ax in an overhead slice. The blade glanced off the beast’s horns and bit into the flesh between its shoulder and neck. The creature screeched. Blood spurted from the wound, and Navid clung to the ax handle, yanking it from the monster’s flesh. His right hand quaked with the effort, pain radiating through his mangled fingers.

The creature’s left arm hung limply by its side, but it didn’t seem fazed by the injury. It wheeled on Navid and lunged, its jagged teeth snapping the air. Navid jumped back. He lugged the ax over his shoulder again and put all his strength into another wild strike. The ax cut deep into the monster’s neck. It howled, lashing out with its one good arm. Navid tried to pull the ax out, but it was stuck. The beast swiped, its claws swishing past Navid. He held onto the end of the ax handle to maintain his distance. His limbs quaked with the effort. The beast thrashed and shook, trying to free itself.

Navid feared he couldn’t keep the crazy at bay for much longer. He was running on pure adrenaline, and once that dissipated he knew he would collapse from hunger and dehydration. He gritted his teeth, letting out a roar filled with anger, hate, and frustration. He shoved the monster with all the strength he could muster. The monster lost its footing. Navid clenched his jaw, his nose scrunching into a snarl. He pushed the crazy back until it slammed against the door to the stairwell. He used the stuck ax to smash the creature’s head against the heavy metal door over and over. Bits of broken bone chipped off the creature’s horns until he finally cracked the thing’s skull.

Gore sprayed from its wounds, but still Navid continued to attack. Pain cut through his hand again and again like aggressive, unforgiving lightning strikes. Bone scraped and splintered against the steel. Finally, with a hard yank, Navid freed the ax. Dazed and bleeding, the monster stumbled forward, striking out with its right arm. Navid took a couple of steps back. The dying creature lurched after him like a drunk.

Navid tensed his arms and then unleashed all the power he had left. The ax blade hissed through the air and buried itself into the middle of the creature’s head. The thing’s eyes rolled back. Its body slumped, crashing at Navid’s feet. He gave the crazy a final kick to make sure it was dead.

Gasping for breath, he bent over, dropping the ax, and placed his hands on his knees. Navid was a research student, a glorified lab jockey. He wasn’t meant for this world. He glanced at Abby’s still form. Beyond where her body lay sprawled, another skeletal claw caught the lip of the roof. It was joined by three others, and the demonic faces those claws belonged to soon forced themselves up.

The effects of the adrenaline were starting to fade. Exhaustion settled over his body, intermingled with the paralyzing grasp of fear. There was no way he could take them all on.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe he should just let it happen. At least then he might be reunited with Abby in the afterlife. But she had been such a good person, far better than him. She’d mentored inner-city kids and headed up the graduate student union’s food drives for the less fortunate. She was so much kinder, more compassionate, and more honest than anyone else he’d ever met. Wherever she had gone, Navid figured he probably didn’t deserve to follow. If he did die on this roof, there was no guarantee they were headed to the same place.

The first four creatures heaved themselves forward. Their plates and claws clicked and rattled as they scrambled onto the roof. They spotted Navid, and their voices rose up in an inhuman hunting cry. Others joined the call as they scaled the hospital, their shrieks building in an unholy chorus. Navid’s knees started to shake. His palms grew clammy. He glanced at the locked door to the stairwell, then back at the monsters, then Abby. Killing them—or, more likely, dying horribly as the creatures ripped him apart—wouldn’t bring Abby back. As much as he hoped he might see her again one day in the afterlife, he knew in his heart that now was not the time. Despite everything, he still wanted to survive.

He turned to the door and slammed the head of the ax against the handle. The strike resonated in his palm, shaking and threatening to break his grip. But he held tight and hit it again and again. The creatures’ claws scraped and scratched toward Navid. He stole a glance over his shoulder and saw others clamber onto the roof, joining the small pack. 

Navid had chosen life, dispelling his morbid fatalism. And with that choice came panic. The thought of what those creatures would do to him was paralyzing. But he willed himself to move on, to find a purpose in his life now that Abby’s had been taken. And to find a purpose, he needed to live.

He hoisted the ax handle once more. It came down hard against the door handle. It snapped off, exposing the locking mechanism, and a brief feeling of victory surged through Navid. He disengaged the lock and then kicked open the door. Sunlight pierced the shadows of the stairwell. Navid lunged inside and slammed the door shut. He knew it wouldn’t hold the crazies for long. At least it gave him a few extra seconds. The crimson emergency lights were still flashing, bathing the stairwell in eerie light. He sprinted down the stairs, his footsteps clanging. A broken pile of bones almost tripped him, but he caught one handrail and jumped over the remains.

Geraldo, he thought. The former janitor had sacrificed himself to ensure Navid and Abby survived the onslaught of crazies. He hoped the man’s sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain. But he didn’t have time for remorse. The door to the roof crashed open. The spiked and mutated silhouettes of the crazies cast demonic shadows on the walls.

Navid sprinted, the backpack with his two remaining water bottles slapping against his back and his fingers wrapped tight around the ax. His sole weapon wouldn’t be enough against the pursuing horde. Especially not with his broken hand, which was growing increasingly inflamed and painful. His mind raced as he tried to come up with somewhere to hide. He’d been chased out of the cafeteria, starved out of the grad student office, and fought for his life through the labs. Every place he knew in the hospital had already been overrun by the crazies.

He took the stairs two, three, four at a time, careening down. At one landing, he almost ran into a crazy with its face buried in the splayed ribs of a long-dead doctor. The creature turned and looked at him. A crimson beard stained its snarling face. Navid smashed the flat side of the ax blade against the monster’s head and used his momentum to drive it into the wall, crushing its skull. The beast fell limp over the dead doctor, and Navid carried on.

He jumped over another corpse riddled with bony growths and then paused in front of a door marked with a large letter G. This was it. The ground floor of the hospital. The creatures’ howls still filled the stairwell, assaulting Navid’s eardrums.

Those howls were muffled when Navid pushed through the stairwell door into a corridor. A bent IV pole lay across a bloodstained hospital bed, and dark-brown puddles of dried blood marred the tiled floor. Torn scrubs and shredded patient gowns littered the hallway like hellish confetti. He crept toward a four-way intersection. Behind him, the crazies would soon pour from the stairwell. Ahead, the lobby and its promise of escape waited for him. But there would also be plenty of crazies milling around the atrium. In that open space, they would quickly overwhelm him. Navid studied the signs pointing down the two perpendicular halls. One way led to Radiology, while the other led to the emergency room. But which way should he go? His heart hammered as the howls of the crazies cascaded under the stairwell door, louder each second.

He needed to make a decision. Fast. The ER connected directly to the ambulance bay, so he started to sprint that direction. Then he stopped. What was he thinking? During the early stages of Boston’s fall, people who had become infected with whatever the hell had caused the outbreak would have been brought to the ER. No doubt the place would be overrun by crazies. He did a one eighty and sprinted the opposite direction, following the signs marked Radiology.

He hurdled a stretcher still filled with the picked-over bones of some poor soul. The echoes of the crazies’ voices now filled the hall, but at least the creatures hadn’t seen him yet. He hoped that their ranks would be split at the intersection, so if worst came to worst, he’d have fewer to fight off.

But fighting was a last resort. Running was the best option for now, and he continued dashing toward a T-intersection. His shoes slipped from under him as he took a right turn. He grabbed the handrail along the side of the hall, catching himself just before he fell. His heart beat faster than his whirling thoughts, and he fought to keep control over his mind.

A slow wave of relief washed through him when he spotted the glaring red Emergency Exit sign at the end of the corridor. This was definitely an emergency. He tried to picture the layout of the hospital and realized that the exit would lead into an alley, away from the ER and the fiendish tableau the main streets of Boston had become. He burst through the door and blinked to overcome the intense brightness of the outdoors. His pupils adjusted as the door swung shut behind him, locking from the inside and ensuring he wouldn’t easily be able to retreat. Not that he wanted to go back. He had to keep moving forward.

He crept through the short alleyway, flitting between dumpsters and abandoned vehicles, surrounded on both sides by the tall redbrick walls of the Mass Gen buildings. The distant scratch of claws and moans of the crazies caught his ears. A breeze carried the smell of death and decay through the alley. He spotted an ambulance parked near the chain-link fence separating the alley from Charles Street and Storrow Drive, which ran parallel to the Charles River.

The ambulance’s rear doors lay open, and a gurney hung halfway out. Whatever patient had been in there was long gone, but two bloodied sacks of navy-blue cloth stuffed with bones still remained. As Navid drew closer, he realized those gore-filled lumps had once been the paramedics, probably attacked by the patient they’d been trying to save. His stomach lurched for a moment, but the nausea passed quickly. He was already growing used to this grisly new world. How long would it be before he grew numb to the horror?

For now, the best he could do was survive, so he needed somewhere safer than the hospital. He hoisted himself to the top of the ambulance and lay flat across it. He army-crawled to the edge of its roof and peered across the street, careful not to make any swift motions lest he attract any crazies rambling about the streets.

And crazies there were aplenty.

They lumbered between the burned-out husks of police cars and Humvees. Some stared straight ahead as they meandered over sidewalks filled with refuse, spent shell casings, and corpses. Others hung their heads low, shuffling their feet. Across the street in Lederman Park, they swerved among the trunks of trees and crunched over dried, brown leaves. He saw one crazy with a battered Red Sox jersey and another with a shirt proudly proclaiming MIT in bold, blocky letters between the spikes that tore through the fabric. Navid’s stomach twisted when he saw another, smaller figure still wearing a backpack sporting a yellow Saturday-morning cartoon character. He inhaled sharply and inched back from the top of the ambulance, shielding himself from view.

Apparently he could still feel something. He felt pity for the people whose lives had been torn apart by this insane biological agent. 

He surveyed the roadway again. There was no way he was going back into the hospital he’d barely escaped with his life. The lethargic throng of crazies ahead prevented him from any easy escape to the river or streets beyond.

The mere thought of all those maddened, flesh-hungry creatures in the street chasing him sent a barrage of shivers creeping through his spine. He shrank back, away from the roof of the ambulance, and lowered himself inside the vehicle. He almost gagged as he stepped over the remains of the paramedics and trembled in a corner.

No, he told himself, you can’t do this, Navid.

Fear might keep him alive. But cowardice wouldn’t save him.

He clenched his jaw and let out a long exhalation then opened the hatch to the cab of the ambulance and lowered himself into the front seat. The keys were still dangling from the ignition.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to run after all.

-4-

––––––––

Dom strode across the cargo bay toward Lauren. His nerves still sparked with pre-mission excitement. He’d never grown entirely accustomed to it over his decades of service. He figured that might actually be a good thing. It reminded him he was human and not a covert killing machine.

“Got that list ready?” he asked as he approached Lauren.

A look of uncertainty spread across her face for a moment. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “Chao’s going to upload it to your team’s smartwatches.”

“Excellent,” he said. “It’ll be a huge help knowing what we’re looking for in those labs.”

“That’s what I thought, too, which is why I don’t think giving you all a grocery list is good enough.”

“What are you getting at?”

“You and the rest of the team are good at a lot of things. You’re good at dealing with hostiles, and when we have solid intel, you’re good at bringing back exactly what we need to run analyses and tests in the lab.”

“I take it you’re about to tell me what we’re not good at.”

Lauren tugged the sleeves of her white coat. “I want you to take one of us along.”

Dom stared at her for a second, nonplussed. “Someone from the medical team?”

“We need someone on your team who knows—I mean really knows—exactly what to look for in the labs.”

“Lauren, I can’t risk anyone else’s life.” After already losing five of the Hunters—three killed on missions and two still suffering the effects of the Oni Agent—their team seemed to be growing ever thinner. “Boston’s overrun. The hospital and research facilities will be deathtraps.”

“Which is why having someone from my team is crucial.” Lauren brushed a hand through her hair and stole a sideways glance at a group of Hunters. “Look, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I think your team needs someone that can quickly identify what samples and chemicals and experimental drugs we want. You’ll get in and out quicker without wasting time trying to consult with us through the comm station or scanning through your smartwatches to figure out if some complex chemical’s name is on your list or not.”

“I appreciate the concern, but we can handle this.”

“Please, Dom. We need to make sure this mission goes off without a hitch. We need everything Mass Gen can give us, and my team knows what that is better than anyone. And if we lose Detrick...”

Lauren let the words hang in the air. Dom understood her fear. General Kinsey had ordered a tactical retreat and was amassing what remained of the US military under his command. Kinsey had chosen not to reinforce Detrick, the sole surviving medical research laboratory facility that might help them in their quest to combat the Oni Agent.

“If we lose Detrick,” Dom said, finishing Lauren’s thought, “then every surviving medical scientist becomes that much more important. That includes your team.”

“But if we don’t have anything to work with, then there’s not much we can do,” Lauren countered. “I already talked to my team, and we agreed it’ll be a boon to the mission. Divya already volunteered.”

“Divya? She’s barely had a chance to recover from when Ivan attacked her.”

“All her health panels show she’s good to go. Plus, she worked in warzones before the outbreak. She knows how to keep her head down.”

Dom cracked his knuckles, slowly shaking his head. He pointed to the massive door of the cargo bay. “That world out there is not a warzone. It’s not two sides fighting against each other for politics or religion. Christ, that world out there—it’s straight-up hell.”

“I understand, Captain. I do. The world’s different, you’re right. But Divya knows how to stay out of the way. You do your job while she does hers. That’s what your team needs, and that’s what we need to make sure we actually get the samples for our research. Otherwise, if you all come back here without finding what we were looking for, then what’s the point?” Lauren held out her open palms in an imploring gesture.

Dom didn’t answer for a moment. He turned on his smartwatch and scrolled through the list Chao had uploaded. A bevy of unfamiliar chemical names scrolled across the tiny screen along with the titles of various laboratories and research project titles. Lauren was right. As much as he hated to admit it, the sheer number of potential candidate drugs and molecules that might be housed at Mass Gen made his team’s job all the more difficult.

“Fine,” Dom said in a low voice. He locked eyes with Lauren. “Divya might actually be helpful.”

“I usually like being right, but not like this.”

“Got any other curveballs you want to throw at me?”

Lauren shook her head. “My throwing arm’s tired. Back to the lab for me.”

Dom stood. “I’m going to join you. Got to say goodbye to the girls before heading out.”

***

Lauren watched Dom say farewell to his daughters. This wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed an emotional exchange between the captain and his family. She figured that was the problem with working on a small ship—barely any privacy.

She tried to ignore Sadie’s quiet sobs and Kara’s choked goodbye. A heavy pair of footsteps sounded, and Lauren spun. Glenn Walsh, a multilingual former Green Beret, grinned at her, sauntering in, swarthy and confident. He glanced sidelong at Dom before locking eyes with Lauren.

“Just wanted to say arrivederci.” Glenn held out a hand to shake hers. “And say a brief thank you to the doctor who got my ass well enough to go on missions again.”

Lauren gave him an awkward half shake. Then Glenn held her hand for a moment longer, and his eyes went slightly glassy.

Screw it¸ Lauren thought. So much for privacy.

She wrapped her arms around Glenn’s thick neck and brought his face down for a kiss. She didn’t care if Dom or anyone else knew they’d rekindled their relationship. As far as she could tell, it was the end of the world, and she doubted the captain would prohibit intra-crew relationships when human bonds might be the only thing left on this earth worth salvaging.

When she pulled away from Glenn, Dom gave her a quick wink before turning his attention back to his daughters. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t give her or Glenn a second glance, and she knew he also wouldn’t give them flack for what he’d seen. Once again, Lauren’s instincts about Dom were correct.

“Divya’s going with you,” Lauren said, still holding onto Glenn’s elbows.

His broad hands rested on her sides just above her hips. “I heard.”

“Take care of her, won’t you?”

“Of course. I won’t let a damn Skull so much as look at her funny.”

“Thanks.” She craned her neck and stood on her toes, meeting his lips with hers once again.

They parted, and Glenn stepped away. “I’ll bring your doctor back safe and sound.”

Lauren watched him duck through the hatch to the passageway. A tingle of fear crept through her. But it wasn’t that she worried about Glenn’s promise of bringing Divya back alive. She knew the former Green Beret would do everything in his power to ensure the doctor’s safety. And that was exactly what scared her most. He’d saved Divya’s life once, throwing himself directly in harm’s way to subdue Ivan when he’d been riddled with the Oni Agent. Lauren had needed to return the favor by using everything in her medical arsenal to preserve Glenn’s life, and she didn’t want to have to go through that again.

It was a selfish notion. She knew that. But all the same, she couldn’t help the way she felt. She tried to distract herself by poring through the medical literature in an attempt to identify more chemicals and drugs for her medical team and Kara to test in their computer simulations.

The medical bay quieted again when Dom left, though it was far from the usual calm quiet of the lab. Maggie whined, seated between Kara and Sadie. Kara held Sadie close as the younger girl sobbed into Kara’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Sadie. It’s okay. They’ll be back here before you know it.”

Lauren caught Kara’s eyes and gave her a reassuring nod. She turned back to her computer monitor. But Kara’s words repeated in her head. They’ll be back before you know it. Her mind drifted toward the Hunters, toward Glenn, once more. She prayed Kara was right.

***

The last fiery rays of the setting sun disappeared beyond the Boston skyline. A chilling wind swept the deck, bringing with it the salty scent of the bay. Dom adjusted the strap on his SCAR-H as he slung it over his back and glanced across the port gunwale of the Huntress.

Renee led the group with former SEAL Spencer Barret at the tiller and Andris and Meredith along for the ride. He’d given them a head start so they could establish a secondary evac route should the helipad atop Mass Gen be compromised during their foray into the hospital. The group planned to moor at one of the boathouses lining the river near Mass Gen. Through satellite images, they had already seen most of the boathouses were devoid of the usual small sailboats and rowing craft. Unlike the Chesapeake Bay around Annapolis and Baltimore, there were no watercraft carrying survivors from the city to the safety of the open water. Dom felt a sting of fear as he considered what that meant: fewer survivors equaled more Skulls.

Behind him, the AW109’s blades thumped the air. The rotor wash rolled over Dom and the rest of Alpha team.

“Captain Holland, party of five, your helicopter’s ready,” the chopper’s pilot, Frank, called over the comm link.

“All right, you heard him!” Dom yelled. “Load up!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” the Hunters called.

He waved an arm, directing them toward the open fuselage door of the chopper. Miguel ducked and ran to the bird, with Terrence following. Divya ran beside Glenn and Jenna. Dom jumped in last and slammed the door shut.

“Ready to roll,” Dom said.

Frank shot him a thumbs-up. “Tonight’s special is Skull, charbroiled and served with a fine sauce of kickass.”

The bird ascended and banked over the murky waves. The chopper shuddered for a second when a rough seaward wind caught it. Frank jockeyed with the cyclic and steadied them. The purple sky along the horizon soon turned black, and darkness bathed Boston. Clouds obscured the stars, and the moon was barely a sliver, unable to fully pierce that blanket. A few fires burned in the city, but no other lights pinpricked the concrete-and-steel structures below.

“NVGs on,” Dom said.

“You got it, Chief,” Miguel replied. The others uttered a series of affirmatives, and Dom heard the click of their NVGs on their helmets.

The city lit up in splotches of black and green. One bright dot marked the IR signal attached to the Zodiac on an otherwise pitch-black river.

“Bravo, Alpha, any contacts?” Dom asked.

“Affirmative, Alpha,” Renee responded in a low voice. “We got swarms of ‘em lining the river. We’re coming in quiet, so I don’t think we’ve riled ‘em up...but yeah, contacts everywhere.”

“Copy, Bravo. Stay quiet, stay out of sight, and keep that boat floating. If we’re lucky, you won’t even see any action.”

“You call that lucky, Captain? I didn’t come out tonight for a scenic cruise.”

Dom wanted to grin at Renee’s bravado, but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. The Hunters may have cut their teeth battling the Skulls through Maryland, but he doubted they’d ever grow accustomed to fighting for their lives against creatures straight out of some twisted madman’s fantasy. “Just keep your asses in the boat until we call, Bravo.”

“Affirmative, Alpha.”

Dom leaned forward against his harness. “Divya?”

The doctor gulped. “Yes, Captain?”

“The survivor on Mass Gen’s roof looked to be in rough shape. He’ll probably need medical attention.” He glanced around the cabin at his team. “We’re going in first to secure the landing site. Make sure Divya gets to the survivor, and we’ll form a perimeter around her.”

“What if...what if he’s too hurt to go with us into the labs?” Divya asked.

“Then we load him in here with Frank,” Dom said.

Jenna’s brow furrowed. “What if we find other survivors?”

“We’ll get them to the chopper, and Frank will ferry them out,” Dom said. They started descending toward Mass Gen. Humanoid black shapes lumbered between the storefronts and restaurants, climbing over abandoned vehicles like ants seeking out food. Dom thought again about Jenna’s question. “But I don’t think finding too many survivors is going to be our problem.”

-5-

––––––––

Navid stared out into the darkness. He sat in the front seat of the ambulance, unable to move his hands enough to turn the keys in the ignition. It had seemed so simple. Start the engine, put the ambulance in drive, and hit the pedal. But then he realized he had no idea where to go. What place would be safe in this new world?

His stomach twisted and growled. Sitting here and wallowing in self-pity and uncertainty wouldn’t feed him. He shrank into the seat and massaged his temples. The low moans of the crazies and the scrape of their claws along the asphalt cut into the ambulance’s cabin. He needed to leave and, goddammit, it didn’t matter where the hell he went. Get out of the city. That was all he needed to do. Head westward, escape Boston. Flee the overpopulated urban landscape crawling with monsters.

Maybe there were smaller towns left untouched by this nightmarish plague. Maybe there was government help out there. Either way, he’d never find out unless he left this hellhole.

Navid twisted the key. The engine lurched and ground. Two crazies on the street spun toward him and ran at the chain-link fence at the end of the alley. Their howls echoed against the brick walls on either side of the ambulance. They hoisted themselves over the fence, and their feet slapped against the pavement. Their bony faces creased in snarls as they charged.

Oh, God, come on! Navid turned the key again. The ambulance sparked to life, and he pumped the gas pedal. His heart fluttered as he waited in dread for it to die again. But the engine revved with a throaty growl.

Four more crazies jumped at the fence and started to climb over. Navid flipped on the headlights. The white light illuminated the swath of crazies—and the road at the end of the alley. The first two crazies were closing in, long shadows cast by the headlights trailing behind them. Through the rear of the ambulance, he saw a pickup truck, a police sedan, and a Honda blocking the alley. There was only one way out, and that was straight through the fence and the crazies.

Navid slammed his foot down. Rubber screeched on concrete as he shot forward. He didn’t let up on the pedal, and the first crazy crashed against the windshield. Blood splattered across the glass. A jagged lightning bolt of a crack formed, and the creature rolled over the top of the ambulance. He flicked on the wipers, smearing the blood and making it even harder to see. The vehicle jolted each time it crashed into another body, accompanied by a sickening sound as bones crunched and flesh squished. The wheel shook with every impact, setting his injured hand afire with pain.

His legs were shaking and his nerves were almost shot, but Navid continued to accelerate. The chain-link fence loomed larger. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as the ambulance smashed into it. The fence crumpled, giving way. The vehicle bounced as it continued out into the street, and Navid twisted the wheel hard to avoid a wrecked police cruiser. He propelled the ambulance forward, knocking over crazies and winding between lines of abandoned cars.

One of the monsters crashed against the ambulance and shattered a headlight. Crazy after crazy thumped against the bumper and hood. Navid’s brow pinched in concentration. He had to remind himself to breathe as he pushed through the aftermath of humanity’s last stand against these beasts.

Another creature hit the front of the ambulance, rolled over the hood, and caught on the windshield. It blocked his view, and its wailing almost deafened him. Navid turned the wheel side to side to shake the monster off. The creature’s claws wrapped around a windshield wiper. It fought against the vehicle’s juking, but at last it was thrown off, tearing away the wiper. Once the windshield was cleared, Navid saw the carnage of bodies, burned-out vehicles, and crazies again. It was almost easier to keep going blind. Navid couldn’t believe the nightmare his city had become.

His heart climbed into his throat. His one working headlight illuminated a monster more grotesque and frightening than any he’d previously seen. It wore no clothes to distinguish its past life as a human. The thing towered above the others. Its arms were each the size of tree trunks covered in scaly bone plates. Two-foot-long horns jutted from its forehead, and its face seemed contorted in a permanent snarl with four incisors scything out of its mouth like overgrown tusks. The giant crazy’s head reared back, and its jaws opened to let out a deafening bellow that shook the windshield. 

Navid nearly pissed himself. He swerved hard to avoid the gargantuan crazy. The ambulance shuddered, almost losing traction. He fought with the wheel to prevent the vehicle from tipping over. Pain tore through his mangled fingers, and he tried to tamp down the panic boiling over in his head. He felt like he was about to lose control over both his body and the vehicle.

All four tires hit the pavement again, screeching as loudly as the crazies chasing him. The behemoth slammed a fist into the rear doors. It wrenched its arm back and tore the doors off the hinges as the sound of protesting metal echoed within the ambulance. It fell back momentarily, but Navid knew it was only a brief pause before the creature’s next attack.

“No!” Navid yelled. Sweat trickled into his eyes, and the salt stung. He ignored it and leaned forward over the wheel. He focused, trying to keep the vehicle moving faster than his new pursuer. The giant monster bellowed. Its roar drowned out the strain of the engine and the hunting cries of the other, human-sized crazies. The thing’s footsteps shook the ground, resonating up through the floorboards with each lumbering step as it gave chase.

The single headlight barely illuminated the road ahead of Navid. He took a swift left to avoid a taxi with a front end resembling a yellow accordion. Then he spun the wheel to dodge the black sedan the cab had crashed into. The tires of the ambulance bounced when he ran over the curb, and he course-corrected quickly to avoid a lamppost.

Everything came at Navid in a blur. Turning past crashed cars, slamming against angry crazies, the single wiper working furiously to clear the blood from the windshield. He stole a glance back. The giant was no more than a dozen feet behind him. It ran over the sedan he’d had to drive around, and its massive trunk-like feet crushed the vehicle. Glass shattered, metal bent. A herd of crazies followed in the giant’s destructive wake. It felt like he was trying to outrun a tidal wave. There was no turning back now, no hiding. These creatures wouldn’t pity him. He had to keep moving forward...but the single headlight lit up a wall of wrecked cars, military vehicles, and corpses blocking the street ahead.

Navid took another right. The ambulance groaned and jumped as it hit the curb. Its tires dug into the grass of a park. He wound the vehicle between spindly trees, half of which had lost their leaves. What appeared to be an abandoned Army barricade consisting of sandbags and barbed wire blocked any escape to his left. Behind him, the giant still pursued with its horde growing ever larger, and to his right, even more creatures sprinted through the trees and over the running paths, all headed toward him. That left only one open direction clear of crazies and barricades.

Straight ahead was the Charles River.

He almost laughed aloud at his ludicrous escape plan. It wasn’t even a plan, really. Just the only option he had left. He’d seen enough of the monsters to know they were nothing but heavy bones and sinew—pure muscle and weaponized tissue. They had little body fat, which meant they had minimal buoyancy. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

With the pedal pressed tight to the floor, the ambulance barreled forward. Navid flew into the steering wheel when the vehicle crashed against the rails along the walking path. Pain coursed through his sternum and ribs. His head slammed into the dashboard. More agony shot through his skull. 

Metal screamed against metal, and the rails gave way. For a couple of seconds, the ambulance soared over the water. Navid’s world seemed to slow for that brief moment. His thoughts turned back to Abby, to his family in Canada, to the life he’d left behind. Nothing would ever be the same again. The world he knew was a distant dream lost to a nightmarish reality. The gentle waves in the river reflected the headlight for a moment before swallowing the vehicle. Navid bucked forward again, and his head hit the windshield. His vision swam, caught in a flurry of reds and blacks.

Water poured in where the rear doors had been torn away, and Navid fumbled to unbuckle himself. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, trying to focus, but his consciousness started to slip. Between the fuzzy edges obscuring his sight, he saw an enormous splash several yards behind the sinking ambulance. The giant thing responsible for the geyser of black water disappeared under the surface, but not before a huge set of claws raked the air one last time.

The sight of those blade-like claws and the monstrous hand they belonged to sent a new wave of fright through Navid. It was enough to push him over the edge. His body finally gave out, and he succumbed to shock and exhaustion. Everything seemed to go numb. Water continued to rush into the ambulance, reaching his chest, then his shoulders, as the crazies leapt into the river. Navid’s thoughts turned to Abby one last time, and then his world went black, his consciousness fading as the ambulance sank.

***

“Did you see that?” Meredith said, holding onto the rope along the gunwale of the Zodiac. She peered across the river with her binos, the night vision piercing the blackness around them.

“No, what was it?” Andris asked, his Eastern European accent coming in strong with his surprise. His finger off the trigger, he peered into the scope of his sniper rifle.

“Something—a van, I think—drove into the river just beyond that bend.” She steadied herself as she stood and pointed downriver.

“Those fucking Skulls don’t know how to drive,” Spencer said. “Must be a survivor.”

Renee pressed a pair of binos to her eyes. “It’s an ambulance.” She paused. “Holy mother of God.”

Meredith knew what the Hunter was seeing. She was watching it too. Skulls were sprinting from the park lining the Charles River and plummeting twenty feet down into it. The dark water devoured them as they slipped beneath the waves. A few scrambled back up the concrete walls, water sluicing off their bodies, and they waited at the edge, howling and snapping at the spot where Meredith had sworn she’d seen a vehicle splash in a few seconds ago. She looked up for a moment to where the AW109 circled the Mass Gen complex. Its rotors beat the air, but its engine noise was barely audible over the clamoring Skulls.

“Alpha, Bravo here,” Renee said over her comm link. “We may have spotted a survivor. Appears to have driven an ambulance into the river to escape the Skulls.”

Dom’s voice broke out over the comm link. “Roger that, Bravo. What’s your position?”

“We’re about twenty yards away from the evac site, and our target is in the drink two hundred yards past. Looks like the vehicle is sinking. Are we cleared to investigate?”

“Negative, Bravo. Give me a moment to assess,” Dom replied.

Spencer idled the Zodiac in the middle of the river while they waited. The gurgle of the engine kept them company during those tense few seconds. One survivor, one person who might already be beyond saving, seemed insignificant. But Meredith knew Dom couldn’t simply abandon someone in the face of danger, especially when rescue was so near. None of them could. With human life becoming rarer each day the Oni Agent spread, Meredith guessed she knew Dom’s answer before he responded.

His voice crackled over the comm link. “Bravo, you copy?”

“Copy,” Renee replied.

“The roof of the hospital is overrun with Skulls.”

Meredith’s heart sank, wondering if he was about to call off the whole mission.

“The survivor we identified via the sat images is gone, so we’re going to survey the area to see if a roof landing is still our best option. What’s the Skull situation look like down there?”

Renee aimed her binos down river again. “Got several dozen lining the shore, but they aren’t jumping in. The ones who dove in sank.”

“Copy.” Dom paused. “Bravo, you’re free to investigate.”

Renee shot Spencer a hand signal, and he let loose on the throttle. Water sprayed up as the bow of the Zodiac cut through the waves. A frothy wake followed the craft, and Meredith clung tightly to the side of the boat. At the bow, Renee was already standing with one hand gripping the rope along the gunwale.

“Come on, Spence! Give this thing some gas!” She yelled over the roar of the engine.

The ambulance slipped under the water’s surface. Sweat trickled down Meredith’s back as the wind whipped against her face. She silently willed the boat to go faster. Maybe it was the sheer number of bodies they’d seen over the past weeks. Maybe it was the death tolls that had inundated the news before everything went dark. Maybe it was the fact that they’d just buried three Hunters at sea. For whatever reason, she desperately wanted to reach the sinking ambulance in time to save whoever was inside.

Her heart thrashed against her ribs like a bird desperate to be free from its cage. Spencer turned the tiller hard when they reached the spot where the ambulance sank. Bubbles were still rising, and Meredith could see the ghostly roof of the vehicle mere feet under the surface.

Without hesitation, Renee slipped off her tac vest and dove into the water.

“Goddammit, Renee!” Spencer pounded his chest. “I’m the SEAL! I’m the fucking SEAL!” He ran to the bow and peered over then called to Andris and Meredith. “You two got the boat?”

“You go for it,” Andris said.

Meredith nodded, and Spencer shed his tac vest and coiled his legs. He dove headfirst into the river. Meredith grabbed the Zodiac’s tiller and turned it to push back against the steady current. She didn’t want the craft to drift too far.

Swaying the boat slightly, Andris moved toward the bow and stared into the water before locking eyes with Meredith.

“Good God, you aren’t going in, too, are you?” Meredith asked.

“Oh, no,” Andris said. “Not if I do not have to. While I learned many things growing up in Latvia, swimming is not one of my talents. You?”

Meredith inhaled sharply as she twisted the tiller. “Swim team in high school.”

“Good. You can save them if they do not surface, no?”

“I’d certainly try.”

But she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Meredith watched where Spencer and Renee had disappeared. Bravo was supposed to be waiting in case Dom’s team needed backup. They were meant to save Alpha should the need arise. She didn’t want to be the team that needed saving.

-6-

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Fort Detrick Central Command

Fort Detrick, Maryland

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Deputy Commander Shepherd stared at the bank of monitors lining the front wall of the room. It had always reminded him of the movies set in Houston’s Mission Control at the Johnson Space Center. But now, he warranted his mission might be even more dangerous than any NASA had overseen.

After Captain Dominic Holland left to return to the Huntress, Shepherd realized how much he missed having an extra team around. Holland’s men had certainly demonstrated their prowess when they’d helped defend against the second major Skull attack on Fort Detrick. Around the room, twenty desks were ready with their own computer monitors. But only five of them were occupied. The empty desks were grim memorials to the servicemen and -women who had succumbed to the Skulls when the base was first overwhelmed. They were a constant reminder of everything they’d almost lost and everything they stood to lose if he failed to protect the base.

Shepherd paced behind one of his remaining comm specialists and stared at the screens on the man’s desk. Security camera feeds showed the reinforced metal panel walls they’d constructed along the edges of the base bolstered by HESCO bastions.

“Are all the cameras online again?” Shepherd asked.

“Yes, sir,” Specialist Lewis responded.

“Good. Any breaches?”

“Nothing as far as I can tell.”

“Report anything suspect directly to me.”

“Yes, sir. Will do, sir.”

Shepherd walked toward another of his surviving leaders. Several applications scrolled across her screens with a bevy of numbers, jagged lines, and letters Shepherd only vaguely recognized.

“Any hits?”

“Negative, sir,” Lieutenant Ramos replied. “I’ve been unable to connect with any other bases. Our only open line of communication is with General Kinsey.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Shepherd paced away with his hands behind his back. It troubled him that they couldn’t contact any other military bases—naval, army, air, or otherwise. Kinsey had ordered a tactical retreat and mustering of all remaining US military forces on the East Coast. The general had claimed the remnants of their scattered forces couldn’t stand up to the tide of Skulls sweeping the nation. Maybe after the muster orders had been given, there simply were no other operating bases. But Shepherd had still held out hope that someone out there had ordnance or supplies they were willing to share with Detrick.

Command Sergeant Major Jackson’s voice came over Shepherd’s radio. “Commander, this is Jackson.”

Shepherd dreaded this call. He knew why Jackson was hailing him. He held the radio up and depressed the call button. “Copy, Jackson. Is the rest of the 3rd Brigade prepared for departure?”

“Affirmative, sir. Can I give them the go-ahead?”

Inhaling deeply, Shepherd took a moment. He didn’t want the rest of the airborne division to fly out of here. They’d take the extra Black Hawks as well as the ordnance and ammunition they’d brought to reinforce Detrick with them. Kinsey had refused Shepherd’s requests to bolster their defenses, insisting that he couldn’t spare the troops. Now he wasn’t sure they could survive another attack.

“Sir, do you copy?” Jackson asked.

“Copy,” Shepherd said. He sighed before depressing the call button again. “Send them on their way.”

Shepherd held his breath, trying not to cringe, as the whine of the squadrons’ engines filled the command center. The reinforced walls around the base kept the facility and its inhabitants out of sight of the Skulls. It was a meager safety measure, but it worked effectively enough as long as the base minimized its noise. But the din of the choppers had compromised Shepherd’s standing orders to maintain the quiet. The racket would certainly pique the monsters’ interest.

“Jackson,” Shepherd barked into his radio. “Stay frosty out there.”

“Roger that, sir.”

He walked to one of the specialists monitoring the security cameras. On the screen, he watched Jackson barking orders at a dozen men. The soldiers ran off toward the northern gate and took up positions along a makeshift catwalk constructed of HESCO bastions behind the steel-paneled walls. Another group guarded the southern gate. As more soldiers clustered along various points of the wall, Shepherd was reminded how diminished his forces were. They covered only a small portion of the entire base at any given time.

“Squads, report in,” Jackson’s voice called over the radio.

“Echo one, no contacts.”

“Echo two, no contacts.”

“Echo three, no contacts.”

“Echo four, we got six or so headed our way.”

“Permission to engage,” Jackson said.

Shepherd watched on the monitor as four of the soldiers along the south wall took aim with their suppressed rifles. There was only a slight flash of light as they fired.

“Echo four, report,” Jackson called.

“Contacts eliminated.”

The roar of the Black Hawks continued to ring the dinner bell to all nearby Skulls.

“Jackson,” Shepherd said, fear tightening its grip around his stomach, “what the fuck is going on with those birds, and why haven’t they taken off yet?”

“Don’t know, sir,” he said. “Checking now.”

Shepherd pointed to one of the monitors. “Follow him, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” the specialist said. He tapped on the keyboard to switch cameras as Jackson ran out of view. He continued to do so until Jackson made it to the Black Hawks lining the tarmac. Several of the 82nd’s soldiers stood around the choppers as if they were guarding them.

Jackson started talking to one of the soldiers. At first, he seemed composed. Then he threw his arms out in wild gestures as the two engaged in an animated exchange.

“What the hell’s going on?” Shepherd yelled into the radio. “Jackson, why haven’t they taken off?”

After another wide flourish of his hands, Jackson spun away from the soldier beside the Black Hawk. He held his radio to his mouth. “Assholes said Kinsey ordered them to hold tight.”

“Then tell them to shut those goddamned birds down!”

“I did, sir!” Jackson yelled back. “They said they were under orders to keep ‘em hot.”

Shepherd slammed a fist on the desk, and the specialist jumped in surprise. “Screw orders! Are they going to help us when the Skulls come charging over those gates?”

“I’ll take care of it, sir.” Jackson marched back to the soldier and started talking to him again. The soldier seemed to listen but then held up a hand. The command sergeant major gestured angrily at the stubborn man. The soldier continued to ignore him. He held up his radio to his ear, appeared to listen for a second, and then signaled to the two men next to him. They pointed their rifles at Jackson.

Shepherd’s eyes went wide. “What the—”

The lead soldier hammered the stock of his weapon into Jackson’s head, and he fell to the tarmac. The other two zip-tied Jackson’s wrists and threw him into the Black Hawk.

“Lieutenant Ramos, keep an eye on the cams,” Shepherd said. If they wouldn’t listen to Jackson, he was their only hope. “I’m going out there.”

He sprinted from the center. His boots clicked on the tiled floor, echoing in the empty hallway. Once he made it outside, he spotted two privates—both belonging to Detrick—guarding the entrance to the NEC. Private Bard had a dark complexion and square jaw, and Shepherd vaguely remembered chatting with him once or twice about training for marathons in his off-duty hours. Private Wesson was doughier, though not completely out of shape, and his eyes were steely.

“Bard, Wesson, on me!” he ordered.

They both fell in behind him without question. He rushed toward the chorus of Black Hawk engines with only a few generator-powered lampposts to guide him. Cool night air rushed past Shepherd as he ran. He charged past the dark gymnasium and medical center, where they’d been hosting refugees from the surrounding areas. He was soon no more than fifty yards from the closest Black Hawk. The rotor wash started to flap his jacket.

“Commander!” Wesson skidded to a stop and pointed toward the wall nearest them.

Angry at the interruption, Shepherd almost ordered his men to start moving again. But then he saw what the private had spotted through the shadows bathing the fort. Movement. Subtle, but definitely movement. Then he heard a sound that never failed to turn his blood to ice. The inhuman shrieks of the Skulls echoed, carrying over the drone of the choppers.

“Comms, this is Shepherd! Breach!” Shepherd barked. “We got a breach!”

“Copy, Commander,” Lieutenant Ramos replied, her voice cracking with fear. She’d barely survived the initial Skull outbreak on the base, and Shepherd hated that she was about to relive those nightmares.

“Comms, get lights on the wall,” Shepherd called over the radio.

Spotlights from the neighboring buildings lit up the scene. Four Skulls leapt over the wall, running low along the grass and casting ghoulish shadows.

Shepherd pulled his handgun from his holster. “Take ‘em out!”

Wesson and Bard shouldered their suppressed rifles and aimed at the beasts. They took measured shots at the charging Skulls. One clad in soiled clothes, grimy and shredded, tumbled and slid across the grass. Another Skull, maybe four and a half feet tall, flipped backward when the soldier’s shots smashed against its body. It fell onto the lawn, its arms spread wide and its claws still twitching. One of the privates swiveled to take down a Skull with a bodybuilder’s form. The monster barreled toward them despite the clatter of bullets pinging off its organic armor. Shepherd raised his handgun, catching the creature in his iron sights, and waited for it to get closer.

“Commander!” Bard yelled.

Shepherd ignored him as he aimed between the creature’s bloodshot eyes and snarling nose. He let loose three rounds, and the Skull’s mouth drooped. Blood poured from its fatal wound. The fourth Skull continued charging, but it was headed to the Black Hawks. The men beside the choppers didn’t seem to have heard the suppressed gunfire over the roar of the engines and thumping blades. 

“Skulls!” Shepherd yelled, running toward the choppers and waving his arms, desperate to be heard. “Look out!”

One of the men in the 82nd turned. He jumped back and shouldered his M16 then fired on the attacking creature. Rounds lanced into the Skull, but the monster continued forward. The spikes along its spine bristled as it tilted its body forward. It pounced. Two more soldiers leapt out of their Black Hawks and started firing. Shepherd watched in horror as the Skull disemboweled one of the soldiers before finally falling to the salvo. Two other soldiers bent to help their brother in arms, but Shepherd could see the man’s glistening organs. It was too late for the poor bastard.

But it wasn’t too late for the rest of his soldiers or the citizens that had taken refuge at the base. Out of breath, Shepherd made it to the edge of the tarmac with the waiting choppers. He ran up to the first master sergeant he found. “You need to leave! Get the fuck out of here before you attract more of those things!”

“We can’t!” the man yelled.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Orders, sir!” Then the man’s eyes went wide. “You’re Shepherd, right?”

“Deputy Commander Shepherd,” he said, emphasizing his rank.

The man took a step forward, leveling his rifle at Shepherd’s chest. His face had blanched, and he appeared uncertain.

Shepherd stepped forward, pushing the man’s barrel away from his chest. “You do not want to—”

A loud crash resounded from the wall, and the master sergeant turned toward it. Shepherd used the distraction to hit the soldier with a right hook and then disarmed him. He couldn’t take any chances. He also couldn’t take the time to consider the implications of what had just happened. Had Kinsey ordered his men to shoot anyone who interfered, or had he specifically commanded them to attack Shepherd and his officers?

He ran back past an idle Jeep and met up with Wesson and Bard. The brackish glow of the lights around the base illuminated the source of the earlier crash. An enormous Skull stomped on a piece of the steel wall it had torn down. It used claws, each the size of Shepherd’s arms, to impale another piece of the wall and rip it away then crumpled the panels like they were paper. Its head, diminutive compared to its Humvee-sized body, reared back. It let out a bellow that shook Shepherd’s bones.

Captain Holland and Dr. Winters had given him a recent recap of their mission in Annapolis, and they’d mentioned a Skull larger than any they’d ever seen. They called it a Goliath, and now Shepherd could plainly see why. The Goliath snarled then lumbered forward like a bone-plated gorilla. It ran with an awkward, galloping gait, and its skeletal spines and horns rattled against each other. A dozen guards ran toward the destroyed chain-link fence and the trampled wall, each firing at the Goliath. But the beast ignored them.

This time, the 82nd saw the breach, and dozens of soldiers poured out of the waiting Black Hawks. The bark of chopper-mounted M240s cut into the air, and muzzle flashes exploded around the tarmac. More rounds smashed against the Goliath, and the beast shuddered, its limbs knocked by the impacts. Craters started to form in its armor as the bony plates were chipped away. But it pressed on as if it were only pushing through a snowstorm. 

The giant’s demolition job had introduced a new threat. Skulls poured through the opening, scrambling through the broken chain-link and over the fallen steel panels. Desperation filled Shepherd. Detrick was in more danger than ever before. He shouldered the M16 he’d taken from the traitorous soldier and fired. Gore sprayed from a nearby Skull. He aimed at another running with its serrated claws already glistening with blood. He squeezed off a three-round burst, knocking the beast backward. 

“Comms, call all available troops to my position!” he called into his radio.

More Skulls swarmed in. Some ran into the parts of the base still covered by darkness. Others followed the Goliath and its wake of wreckage. And more charged at Shepherd and the two privates he’d recruited to watch his six.

An explosion rocked the tarmac.

The Goliath fell back, still gripping the rotor from a Black Hawk it had destroyed. Standing, the monster roared again. It punched a massive fist into the cockpit of another bird. Three of the dozen Black Hawks lifted from the ground. One man, evidently a company leader, waved his arms at the flying choppers, gesturing for them to stop. But the trio already in the air seemed intent on getting the hell out of Dodge.

Cowards, Shepherd thought as he aimed the M16 at a Skull with long horns jutting from its forehead. The thing slashed the air with its spindly appendages, but Shepherd brought it down before its claws reached him.

Twenty more Skulls dashed across the street, their claws clicking on the asphalt. Detrick’s units were doing the best they could, but they wouldn’t be able to stop the unabashed assault. An all-too-human scream echoed in the night, and Shepherd knew it was one of his own falling under the merciless, indiscriminate clutches of a Skull.

The sound of rending metal assaulted Shepherd’s eardrums once more. He spun, watching the Goliath tear open another Black Hawk like he was peeling off wrapping paper. The soldier manning the M240 on the chopper continued shooting, raking gunfire across the Goliath’s chest at point-blank range. Bone shattered and splintered. Blood oozed from the wounds. But the monster ended the soldier’s courageous resistance with one downward strike, smashing the man like an insect.

More of the 82nd’s guns trained on the Goliath, firing into its gory chest. The Goliath stumbled toward the next chopper. The heavy gunfire had taken its toll on the beast. It shuddered with each step until it fell to its knees. A final demonic wail echoed from its tusked mouth before it slumped forward, crashing into the tarmac.

Shepherd felt a brief wave of hope as the 82nd opened up on the remaining Skulls. One Black Hawk took off, and Shepherd feared it would be another deserter, leaving only six undamaged birds on the ground. But instead, the chopper circled around to the opening in the wall. The door gunners let loose wave after wave of lead. The soldiers along Detrick’s wall cheered as the flow of Skulls finally ebbed. Shepherd surveyed the scene. Skeletal, spiked bodies lay bleeding, strewn across the lawn and streets. He counted several of his men among the monstrous corpses. More losses to haunt his conscience.

Shepherd turned to Bard and Wesson. “You both okay?”

They nodded. Wesson’s eyes were wide, and Bard’s lower lip trembled. Sweat glistened on their faces.

“Then let’s move up and help our boys out!”

The trio charged toward another civilian sedan abandoned along one of the streets. Sporadic gunfire still resounded around the tarmac between the Black Hawks as the 82nd finished off the Skulls that had infiltrated their ranks. Radio chatter droned on, calling out sightings of hostiles around the base. But just as quickly, those Skulls that had run off on their own were killed by the other guards patrolling Detrick’s perimeter and protecting the civilian shelter.

As the gunfire quieted, Shepherd lifted his radio to his mouth again. “Comms, gather up the injured. Get chelation therapy going for anyone who had direct contact with the Skulls, and get me a casualty report.”

“Yes, sir,” came the lieutenant’s reply.

“Sir!” Bard said. “We’ve got new contacts!”

Shepherd stood from behind the sedan, his heart climbing into his throat.

“Holy shit!” Wesson yelled.

Shepherd thought that was an understatement. Four more Goliaths barreled through the opening in the fence. One swiped out with a huge fist, sending two soldiers flying through the air. Another picked up a third soldier and crushed the man in its grip. The third Goliath, tangled in the chain-link, ripped at the fence, bringing another ten feet of fence and wall down with its struggle. The fourth ran and leapt at the Black Hawk hovering just above the giant monsters. Its claws connected with the chopper and punched into its metal paneling. The monster swung itself into the bird’s open side-door, barely able to fit within. Two of the soldiers jumped from the bird, screaming as their legs broke when they hit the ground. Another three were forced out by the creature’s thrashing arms. The pilot fought to keep the bird in the air, and the Black Hawk tilted from side to side with the constantly shifting weight of the Goliath. The chopper started listing to its port, and the Goliath moved with it. The bird spiraled in an uncontrolled descent. It hit the ground hard on its side, its blades smashing and bending. Fire spouted from the wrecked bird, and thick plumes of dark smoke billowed up. The Goliath emerged, its bony armor gouged and burned. Its beady, bloodshot eyes scanned for its next target.

Shepherd froze as the creature locked its gaze on him. The monster’s face contorted in a snarl, its nose wrinkling under its bone-rimmed brow. It raised its bulging arms in the air, and each scythe-like claw cast its ominous silhouette against the pale moon. With a grunt, the Goliath leapt from the wreckage of the Black Hawk and charged Shepherd.

-7-

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Renee’s lungs burned. With only a waterproof flashlight to guide her, she strained to see through the murky brown water. Sediment and debris floated with the current, and she pulled herself through it toward the sinking ambulance. Bubbles streamed from the open rear of the emergency vehicle and trickled out of the cab’s passenger door.

Her heart stopped when her flashlight beam caught a white shape floating behind the ambulance. A body. She kicked faster and used her hands to pull herself deeper toward it. Its arms drifted out, away from its torso, and its legs were splayed. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her brain screamed at her that she needed to breathe. But she wouldn’t let this person drown. She kicked again and reached out with one gloved hand. 

She snatched her hand back. The body wasn’t a human at all. Long, sharp claws jutted out of its hands, drifting with the current. Its dead eyes glowed a dull red when the flashlight beam caught them. Renee played the light over the spikes and plates covering its gray skin. Its body rolled over with the current and slowly sank lower. It disappeared from her view, succumbing to the cloudy depths. 

If she were at the water’s surface, she would’ve breathed a sigh of relief. The goddamned thing was dead. Apparently the Skulls hadn’t learned to swim yet.

But just because the Skulls couldn’t swim didn’t meant the person she was trying to rescue could. She kicked until she reached the ambulance’s roof. Her fingers wrapped around the edge, and she pulled herself into the rear of the vehicle. IV lines and glass bottles filled with medicine floated within, reflecting her flashlight’s beam. Above, the roof had trapped a large bubble of air. She pushed herself up to the bubble. Though only a couple of inches high, she managed to get her lips past the sloshing water and into the dry air. She gulped down wonderful, sweet air and panted until she felt the burning in her lungs dissipate.

Taking another deep breath, she ducked her head under the bubble and peered through the murk. She moved a floating gurney out of her way to get a view of the front cabin. But before she could play the flashlight beam over the front seats, something grabbed her leg. She screamed. The noise was muffled, drowned by the water. Bubbles streamed from her lips as she wasted precious oxygen.

She tore her leg away from the gripping hand and pulled her knife from its thigh sheath. With her knife hand cocked back, she prepared to stab her attacker. But the fingers didn’t end in hooked claws like those of a Skull. She adjusted the light toward the body belonging to the hand and illuminated Spencer’s square-jawed face. He made a placating gesture, his eyes wide. Renee gave him a relieved thumbs-up. The Navy SEAL raised his shoulders and held out his hands, palms up, as if to ask where their survivor was.

Renee indicated the cab with a nod. First, she surfaced once more in the air bubble, took a breath, and waited for Spencer to do the same. They ducked back into the freezing water and swam to the cab.

Another body appeared in the glow of the flashlight. This time Renee shone the light over it to ensure there were no skeletal appendages, horns, or other signs of a Skull. She swam to the person and found him snarled in the unbuckled seatbelt. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties. His dark hair swayed in the current, and his eyes remained closed. Spencer powered past Renee and helped untangle the seatbelt from around the driver’s leg.

Once they’d freed him, Renee and Spencer each took an arm and pulled the man out of the ambulance. The vehicle had sunk deep enough that they could no longer see the water’s surface. Soil and refuse blocked Renee’s meager flashlight beam. She and Spencer kicked to propel themselves up, following their escaping bubbles.

Another Skull’s body floated past Renee, but she ignored it. Spencer started to pull ahead; the SEAL was clearly more adept at swimming and holding his breath than her. He didn’t seem to have to fight as hard to bring their charge to the surface, but she wouldn’t let the unconscious man or her lungs, now on fire once more, bring her down. She pumped with her legs and pulled at the water with her one free hand.

Renee’s muscles strained. She had shed her tac vest on the Zodiac, but her sidearm, sodden fatigues, and heavy boots were enough to pull against her body’s natural buoyancy. She hadn’t counted on being so much deeper than when she’d first found the young man.

Her boot caught on something. She thrashed, trying to free herself. A heavy weight yanked against her while she struggled. Whatever she’d gotten stuck on was substantial enough to start dragging her down.

Spencer turned back to see what had delayed her. His eyes went wide. A stream of bubbles escaped his open mouth. With his free hand, he pointed behind Renee and shone his flashlight on the thing that had snagged her boot. More bubbles streamed up, carrying her silent scream to the surface.

A six-inch blade of bone had gotten snagged in her laces. And that blade belonged to an enormous Skull—a Goliath. The monster rotated slowly, its body only partly visible in the murk. When its head came into Spencer’s flashlight beam, Renee saw the creature’s mouth was half-open. Tusks protruded from its still lips, and its eyes gazed vacantly into the darkness.

The monster was dead, but it was still dangerous. Spencer tried to swim down to help. The young man’s body started to drift free of his grip and float upward on its own.

Renee shook her head, her hair coming loose from its ties and fanning out in front of her. She pointed toward the water’s surface and tried to look stern and commanding. The young man started to spin in the current. Spencer swam toward her, but again, she let out a muffled yell and pointed at the man they’d been trying to rescue. Spencer needed to save him; she could take care of herself.

Spencer swam back up, looped an arm under his armpit, and disappeared up and out of sight. The Goliath continued to drag Renee down, but she willed herself to remain calm. She’d be fine as long as she didn’t panic. She bent, reaching toward her boot. With one hand, she unsheathed her knife and drew it across the laces.

The claw was firmly stuck. She sawed at her boot. The laces started snapping and breaking. She was almost free, certain she’d made the right call for Spencer to save himself and the man—if the young man could still be saved. One more pass should do it. She pulled the blade back, and it caught on the Goliath’s claw.

The knife kicked out of her grip and flipped away.

She stretched to grab it, but the Goliath was pulling her in the wrong direction. Her fingers missed the knife by inches. The blade taunted her, reflecting the glow of her flashlight, tumbling as if in slow motion. Panic threatened to overtake her.

No, she thought, I can do this.

Rationality prevailed, and she reached down to the boot. Her gloved hands proved too clumsy to undo the knots, and she thrashed in hopeless frustration. Then she realized she had access to another blade.

The laces were just loose enough that she could move them slightly against the Goliath’s serrated claw. She kept at it, dragging her boot against the skeletal edge until the last loop snapped. Mustering all her strength, she shot upward. Kicking and pulling at the water with both hands, she burst from the surface. She bobbed there, her eyes adjusting to the darkness around her. Freezing water splashed against her tingling skin. She gulped down air and treaded the water, slowly scanning for the Zodiac.

The growls and cries of Skulls caught her ears. Creatures jostled against each other, snapping at the air. But the ones left on land evidently were intelligent enough to know their fate if they jumped in after her. Figuring she was safe from them, she swiveled in place, trying to get her bearings. The Skulls might not get her, but the numbness in her fingers was spreading through her arms. Her feet felt like heavy lead blocks. The cold water might prove to be as perilous as the creatures teeming along the riverbanks.

“Renee!” an Eastern European voice said. “Where are you?”

“Here!” She lifted her flashlight out of the water and turned it on and off in quick succession. Her signaling was greeted with the sound of the Zodiac’s gurgling motors. The craft came into sight. Other flashlights shone from it, and she shielded her eyes.

She barely had the strength to lift herself into the boat. Andris reached out and grabbed her under the arms. Near the motor, Meredith was performing CPR on the young man. Even in the dull light, the man’s skin was ashen, and his lips appeared blue. Renee noticed the boat was missing a Hunter.

“Where the hell’s Spence?” she managed between panting breaths.

“Brought this guy up then went back down for you,” Andris said.

“Goddammit!” Renee maneuvered to the edge of the gunwale and prepared to dive back in. Her muscles were half-dead, fatigue had overwhelmed the flagging adrenaline in her vessels, and her teeth still chattered with the cold. But she wouldn’t let Spencer kill his dumbass self by jumping back in after her. She stood over the side of the boat, one boot on the gunwale, ready to spring into the water. Before she could dive in, a splash sounded at their stern.

“There you are!” a voice called from the darkness.

Andris swiveled the light on Spencer’s head, bobbing near the Zodiac. The SEAL wrapped an arm around the gunwale and carried himself over the side of the craft. He combed his fingers over his head, flicking water from his short-cropped hair.

Renee was already pulling out the thermal protective blankets from their first aid supplies. She unfolded one blanket and gave it to him, took another for herself, and waited by Meredith with a third.

Meredith leaned in and breathed into the man’s mouth again then continued pumping his lungs. She counted her pumps silently. Renee didn’t want to bother the ex-CIA operative for fear of ruining the woman’s concentration.

Spencer knelt beside the survivor, took off his gloves, and placed them on the man’s wrist. His brow furrowed. “You know I dove all the way down to that goddamned Goliath and about had a heart attack when I saw you weren’t there. Finally had to quit my searching and come back up.”

Renee arched an eyebrow.

“Seriously,” Spencer said. “Don’t act so surprised. That’s the kind of shit I trained for as a SEAL. We...” He let his thought trail off and stared, wide-eyed, at the man they’d pulled from the sinking ambulance. His fingers were still on the man’s wrist. Meredith had paused from pumping his chest and was trying to breathe fresh air into him. “He’s got a pulse!”

Meredith stopped, tilting back from the young man as a geyser of water sprayed from the man’s mouth and his eyes shot open. He coughed and clutched his abdomen, leaning forward. Renee handed the blanket to Meredith.

“You’re okay,” Meredith said, covering the man in the emergency blanket.

Water dribbled out of the side of his mouth, and Meredith helped situate him so his back was against the gunwale. The man coughed some more and then started shivering. He pulled the blanket tight around himself, and Meredith knelt closer to him. His eyes were still wide with shock.

“You’re okay,” Meredith repeated.

“Are you...here to...rescue me?” The man asked, his teeth chattering. His words came out jumbled and quick. “Did...did...you see my SOS? Too late...to save Abby. Couldn’t...help her.” He looked around the craft, his gaze lingering on each of the Hunters. “Who...who are you?”

“I’m Renee Boland. We’re—” She paused, locking eyes with Meredith. The woman shared a knowing expression as if she had understood the implications of what the man was rambling about. “Wait, did you come from the hospital?”

The man nodded, his arms shaking while he held the blanket around his body.

“Were you on the roof?” Renee asked.

Again, the man nodded.

“I’ll be damned,” Renee said. She opened a channel to Dom. “Alpha, this is Bravo. I think we just found your missing survivor.”

-8-

––––––––

“Copy, Bravo,” Dom said over the comm link, pressing his finger to his ear. “What’s his name? Does he know the location of any other survivors?”

The AW109 continued to circle around the Mass Gen hospital. Dom stared at the Zodiac below, waiting for Renee to relay his questions. A couple of flashlight beams lit up the small craft in the otherwise shadowy river.

“Name’s Navid Ghasemi,” Renee replied, her voice shaky. “And that’s a negative on other survivors.”

“Damn,” Dom said to himself then spoke over the comm link again. “Renee, you sound ragged. You okay?”

“I’m fine, Captain. Just catching my breath.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way,” Dom said.

“Saw another Goliath in the water, Captain.”

“Swimming?” Dom asked, incredulous.

“No, thank God. Dead. But keep your eyes out. Don’t want those fuckers surprising you guys.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Dom said. He turned to the rest of his team. “You all got that?”

“Sure did, Chief.” Miguel patted the FN40 grenade launcher attached to the stock of his SCAR-H. Each of the Hunters now had one thanks to the stop they’d made at the Army supply depot back in the Chesapeake.

Dom leaned forward against his harness and studied his Hunters. They held their weapons in front of their chests. Each wore black fatigues and tac vests. Their faces appeared grim beneath their helmets. “Ready?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” they all responded.

“We’re going forward as before, with the exception that we’ll have to clear the roof,” Dom said. “Frank, I want you to let us off then get the fuck out of there fast as possible. Don’t need all the Skulls climbing up the hospital after you.”

“No problem, Captain. I only take paying customers, and those Skulls are some cheap bastards,” the pilot responded, tilting the cyclic and banking the chopper back toward the hospital’s roof.

“We’ll call when ready. We’ll shoot for meeting at the hospital’s actual helipad, make the pickup a bit easier for you. Miguel, I want you on point. Bail out as soon as we touch down.”

“Happy to do it, Chief.”

“Jenna, Terrence, you follow.”

They both shot him a thumbs-up.

“Glenn, keep on Divya.” He glanced at the doctor, who looked tiny strapped in next to Glenn’s hulking frame. “You ready to roll out, Doc?”

“I never imagined it would look this...” she said, gazing at fuselage window. Dom feared for a second she’d lost her nerve. That maybe the sight of the sporadic fires and waves of Skulls below was too much. But then she turned to him, and he saw a confident, self-possessed expression on her face. She’d promised she could handle it here, and Dom believed her. “But, yes, I’m ready, Captain.”

“Good. I’ll take rear guard.” The AW109 started its descent toward the roof. “Take these fuckers out quiet as possible. Don’t let ‘em fall off the roof either. The goal is not to attract attention.”

The Hunters nodded.

“Prepare for landing,” Frank called back.

Sounds of unclicking harnesses echoed around the cabin. NVGs snapped into place, and Miguel positioned himself near the side door. The chopper’s wheels touched down with a jolt, and he pulled back the door. The Hunter jumped out, and his rifle immediately sent a stream of suppressed fire to eliminate the nearest Skull. Jenna and Terrence followed after, flanking Miguel. Glenn helped Divya down, and Dom leapt out last. He slammed the door shut and slapped the side of the chopper.

Frank sped away, and the bird’s heavy, thumping rotor noise faded. Dom didn’t have time to watch where Frank was trying to lead the Skulls. He swiveled and brought his rifle to bear on a monster with skeletal shoulder blades fanning out behind it. He squeezed the trigger, and bullets chipped at the monster’s plates. The rounds broke through the grotesque ribcage protecting the creature’s vitals, and blood sprayed out. Instead of a hunting cry, blood gurgled and popped from the monster’s mouth as it crashed to the rooftop. Adjusting his aim, Dom took out another Skull wearing the remnants of a Celtics jersey. More bullets smashed through the bones growing around the creature’s midsection. The bones were no match for the armor-piercing rounds cutting through them. One more gift they’d found at the Army supply depot.

The others continued to lay down fire. A mess of Skull corpses, plates, and armor riddled with bleeding holes accumulated around the roof. Blood spilled over the painted white block letters of the SOS that had first attracted the Hunters here.

The quiet chatter of the suppressed gunfire went silent. In the distance, the chopper’s rotors sounded. Dom spotted it flying along the Charles River, leading Skulls away from where Bravo waited in the Zodiac with Navid. 

Good flying, Frank, Dom thought.

The Hunters broke off into pairs and rounded the three square structures leading to the hospital’s stairwells.

“Clear?” Dom asked over the comm link.

“Clear,” Miguel reported.

“Clear,” Jenna said.

Dom held his breath and peered over the side of the hospital. He shouldered his rifle, prepared for an oncoming wave of Skulls. But his plan had worked. Most of the shapes he saw moving through his NVGs meandered listlessly along the streets. They wove between cars and trash cans and lampposts. None seemed particularly interested in the roof of the hospital.

“Clear,” Dom said. “Form a perimeter around the entrance to the south stairwell.”

The group moved almost soundlessly and took up positions around the already-breached doorway. A harsh wind caught the door, and it swung open wider, creaking. Dom cringed at the sound and held the door open with his boot. He checked his smartwatch and pulled up the building plans Chao had recovered for them. “We’re going to start our search two floors down. Maintain radio discipline, clear the labs, and then post a guard while Divya directs us on what to retrieve. On my signal.”

The Hunters turned to watch Dom’s gestures. Glaring white in Dom’s NVGs, the IR markers attached to the other Hunters’ NVGs flared. He pointed at Miguel, and the Hunter slipped into the dark stairwell. The others followed in quick succession, with Dom again maintaining rear guard. He closed the door behind him as quietly as possible. It clicked into place, and he slunk down the stairs, taking each step with measured care. He spotted the rotting remains of several Skulls along the way. Skin hung off their bones. Someone had put up a struggle here. He wondered if these Skulls had fallen at the hands of Navid. The man couldn’t personally guide them around the labs, but a civilian who fought so ferociously might prove to be useful in more ways than Dom had originally expected.

The team slowed and waited outside of a door on another landing. This was the first floor they would scour. Miguel waited at the door, his fingers gripping the handle.

Dom gave him a quick nod.

Miguel pushed open the door and shouldered his rifle in one fluid motion. The others poured through. Down the hallway, emergency lights flashed in a slow pulse. They lit up a Skull crouched near a body. A blood-spattered patient gown fluttered over its back. It dug a claw into the soft flesh of whatever poor soul had been its prey and scooped out a chunk of the person’s innards. It chomped on the fresh meat as the Hunters prowled toward it, still unnoticed.

Terrence’s boot landed on a discarded syringe, cracking the plastic. The creature’s head whipped up. It bore its lips back to reveal long, crooked teeth. A menacing, throaty growl emanated from the beast. It jumped up and sprinted across the tiled floor. Its feet slipped on the smooth surface, and it almost fell.

Miguel fired first, sending a salvo into the monster that finished the job the slick floor had started. The monster fell forward and somersaulted. Sprawling out, its bones rattled. It slid in its own spilling blood and then lay still. Dom gestured for the group to move forward. He twisted his wrist and checked the smartwatch once more. He matched the name on the glowing screen with the placard next to a doorway: Nerve Guidance and Regeneration Lab.

“Check it out,” Dom whispered over the comm link. The others spilled inside. Dom followed and closed the door.

The group fanned out between the black lab benches. They peered over the large compressed nitrogen tanks, bigger than the SCUBA tanks Dom was used to, and checked every corner of the labs. Water dripped from the pressurized emergency faucets at the eyewash station, but the room was otherwise quiet.

“Clear!” Miguel said.

The others relaxed and lowered their weapons. Jenna and Terrence positioned themselves by the door.

“Where do we start?” Dom asked Divya.

She had already taken off her pack and was scrounging through it. “Let’s scrape the computers.” She handed Glenn a battery pack. “Plug them in, and then use these.” She gave him several satellite links that could be plugged into the computers’ USB ports.

“Can do,” Glenn said. He connected two desktops on a lab bench to the battery pack. The computers beeped and hummed as they turned on. “What now?”

“The sat links will activate automatically, sending everything back to Chao and Lauren.”

The monitors lit up, glowing brightly in the otherwise dim lab. A window popped up on each screen reporting a Data Link had been established. Progress bars filled, one after another, and the names and locations of files scrolled across the screen.

“Next step,” Dom said. “Drugs, chemicals.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Divya said. She pulled open the door to a large white freezer. The contents had long since thawed, but she perused them anyway. Small glass vials clinked together, and she moved aside racks of plastic tubes. “Most of these are probably expired, but we can always reverse engineer....a-ha!”

She pulled out a small plastic vial, no larger than Dom’s thumb, and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“One of those experimental drugs I was telling you about.”

Dom rotated the vial. A few numbers were scrawled across it in almost illegible handwriting along with a date. “How the hell do you know?”

“Date matches a study Lauren and I were reading about. The numbers there indicate which sample it was in the study, and the chemical name is right there.”

Dom quickly scrolled through the list on the smart watch. “Doesn’t match anything here.”

“That’s because the researcher—probably one of the students working in the lab—spelled the chemical name wrong.”

Dom gave her a skeptical look.

She held up both hands in a supplicating gesture. “Trust me on this one. I’ve worked with enough students in my labs to know these things happen. Even some of the top scientists I worked with couldn’t spell worth a damn.”

“All right, I believe you,” Dom said, slipping the vial into one of the collection chambers. Now he understood Lauren’s insistence on bringing Divya along. His team might’ve missed such a subtle difference when scouring the labs for potential matches on their list. “How many more do we have?”

Divya pulled out a whole wire rack filled with hundreds of tiny vials. “We hit the mother lode.”

-9-

––––––––

Shepherd aimed his rifle at the Goliath barreling toward him. The monster swiped away the burning husk of a Black Hawk. Flames licked into the night sky around it, giving the creature a distinctly demonic look. A smaller Skull, clad in a standard-issue Army combat uniform, ran alongside the giant. The Skull in the ACU craned its head and let out a high-pitched shriek as if telling the Goliath to back off, that Shepherd was its prey.

The Goliath continued to lumber forward. It didn’t give the small Skull so much as a glance but simply swung one huge fist. The creature flew through the air. Its cartwheeling corpse smashed against the side of a brick-walled building. Limbs shattered, and its torso split with the impact. It fell and hit the parking lot with a sickening thud, bleeding out slowly.

Shepherd had no sympathy for the twisted creature that had once been a man—and judging by its fatigues, a former soldier. The soul that had once inhabited that body was gone, and Shepherd felt only grim determination to wipe out every last one of the monsters.

He unloaded an entire magazine on the Goliath. Bullets sparked and ricocheted against its armor. Wesson and Bard joined in, unleashing salvo after salvo. A round caught the bare flesh between its chin and neck. Blood sprayed from the wound. The monster’s head kicked back, and for a moment, it faltered, its eyes widening as if suddenly aware of its own mortality.

But just as quickly, the monster recovered and continued its charge.

Shepherd started to back away while maintaining his aim. “Go for the neck!”

The two privates adjusted their aim to match Shepherd’s. More rounds went wide around the small target. They pinged uselessly against the Goliath’s thick armor. Others whistled through the night. But enough hit home, plunging into the beast’s fleshy neck, to ignite a rush of blood. The hot liquid poured over the front of the monster’s mutated ribcage.

Shepherd’s heart hammered. The two privates held their positions despite the fear playing across their faces. They continued to fire on the encroaching behemoth. Wesson’s arms trembled, but he maintained his aim.

All around, screams rent the air. Some human, some monstrous. Voices barked over the radio. In Shepherd’s peripheral, he could make out muzzle flashes and flames in the midst of the carnage the other three Goliaths were wreaking across the base. Undulating waves of Skulls rushed in around the giant beasts.

Shepherd wanted to stop them, wanted to help the others dying under those monsters’ claws.

But in order to do that, he needed to take this one down first.

“Die, asshole!” Bard yelled.

“Changing mags!” Wesson said.

Shepherd unleashed another barrage on the Goliath. His slide locked back. Empty. “Changing!”

The monster’s footsteps shook the ground. Its tusked mouth opened, and it bellowed, almost close enough now for them to smell its acrid breath. Blood drizzled from the corners of its lips. It was hurt, maybe even fatally injured. Or maybe that was just Shepherd’s deceptive optimism.

The monster had certainly slowed. But it wasn’t stopping.

“Fall back!” Shepherd yelled. Bard and Wesson followed. They ran from their position behind a jeep toward a four-story office building just a few blocks away from the gymnasium-turned-shelter. “Stop him before he gets to the civilians!”

“Yes, sir!” Bard said. He fired a quick three-round burst to hold the Goliath’s attention.

Shepherd’s muscles burned as he ran. The beast’s quaking footsteps kept the adrenaline flowing through him, and he powered on until they reached the office building. “Inside! We’ll slow him down!”

He slammed the stock of his rifle against the door handle. It clipped off. Leading with his shoulder, he pushed open the door and waved the two privates in. Their boots thumped against the tiled floor. They sprinted past piles of discarded papers and broken computers. Glass shards sparkled dangerously next to puddles of dried blood. There was a good reason this building hadn’t been inhabited again.

An enormous rumble shook the entire building. Dust poured between ceiling tiles, showering the three men. Shepherd spun on his heels and then knelt behind a knocked-over desk. The furniture wouldn’t provide much protection against the Goliath, but he couldn’t help old habits.

Again, the building shook as the Goliath rammed the doorframe. Its beady eyes locked on Shepherd and his men. The beast let out a loud bellow of frustration. Its voice echoed madly in the narrow corridor. Shepherd was forced to cover his ears at the height of the monster’s wail.

The Goliath stopped and disappeared for a moment. A sudden grating crash followed as the Goliath threw itself at the door. It pushed into the entrance, but its shoulders were too large. The hooked, crooked bones caught in the door, and it thrashed about wildly, trying to free itself. Shepherd shouldered his rifle, took aim at the Goliath’s head, and fired a salvo. The two privates quickly joined in.

The monster had finally given them an easier target. Bullets ripped into the flesh under its neck. Shepherd and his men were rewarded with a river of blood. The Goliath’s head reared back once more, but no roar came out. Instead, red bubbles burst from its throat with a series of rattling gasps and stained its bony tusks. The Goliath shuddered before falling forward.

“We fucking did it!” Wesson yelled.

A wide grin formed across Bard’s face. “Goddammit, we did it, brother!”

Shepherd wanted to celebrate with his men, but he knew there was no time. He unclipped his radio from his belt and held it to his mouth. “Command, Shepherd here. Sitrep?”

“Breach on south gate,” Lieutenant Ramos reported. “South guard is down. No one reporting in. Breach on east gate. They’re scattered and retreating. Command is still secure.”

“Roger. Skulls are going to be everywhere. I want anyone left on north guard to get to the civilian shelter. Anyone left on west watches command. Abandon all other posts.”

“What about the labs?” the lieutenant asked, her voice breaking.

“We don’t have the manpower to protect them.” Shepherd’s thoughts flitted briefly to Dr. Winters and the floating labs aboard the Huntress. He could only pray they could carry on the scientific mission without their support. “Evacuate and get them to command.”

“And you, sir?”

“I’ll find my way back. If those fuckers in the 82nd reopen comms with us, tell them to get their asses in the fight.”

“Will do, sir.”

“Good. Over.” He turned to the two privates. “Ready and reloaded?”

Bard nodded, and Wesson performed a tactical reload. Frantic chatter still crackled over Shepherd’s radio. Another low blast echoed somewhere over the base. Machine gun and rifle fire droned on, and the Skulls’ shrieks continued.

“We headed back to command, sir?” Wesson asked.

Shepherd shook his head, staring at the dead Goliath blocking the front entrance. “No, we’re going back to the tarmac. Jackson’s still in one of those Black Hawks.”

“Sir, may I speak freely?” Wesson asked.

“Spit it out, Private.”

“I’m all for rescuing Jackson, but we need to get you back to command. It’s not safe out here. Jackson might be dead.”

“He might be,” Shepherd conceded. “But we’re the closest to the tarmac.” He adjusted his grip on his borrowed M16 and stepped over a spilled garbage can. “You saw how hard it was to bring that thing down. We need something more effective than small arms fire.”

Bard shrugged. “Sir, we don’t have anything else on base to deal with those fuckers.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Private,” Shepherd said, marching down another hall toward an exit door that wasn’t clogged by a dead behemoth. “The 82nd brought in a batch of AT4s, and we’re going to retrieve ‘em.”

“Rocket launchers?” Wesson asked, following Shepherd.

“Right. Those Skulls aren’t going to know what hit ‘em.”

“I like the sound of that,” Bard said.

They were only a few yards away from the exit. Shepherd steeled himself for the hell they’d find outside. He could practically feel the tension. The metal emergency exit door shook. Shepherd stopped, training his rifle on the door. The privates followed suit.

“Maybe someone’s trying to get in?” Wesson offered.

The sound of nails scratching against metal screeched from the door. An inhuman howl echoed under it. A bevy of other voices picked up in response, their nightmarish chorus slipping in through the windows of the office building. Glass shattered in one of the rooms off the hall. The distinct staccato of claws clicking against the tiled floor followed.

“On me!” Shepherd yelled. A Skull, hunched over, its claws dripping with blood, scuttled into the hall from one of the offices. Its nose twitched, and its head swiveled. Bard let loose three shots. Gore sprayed from the exit wound in the creature’s head.

More claws clicked and scraped. Glass crunched, and howls echoed out. The unmistakable rattle of bone plates sounded after. Three Skulls cornered around an intersection. One dwarfed the other two. Not because it was a Goliath, but because the other Skulls stood less than five feet tall. Another four Skulls scrambled after the initial trio.

Gunfire filled the hall. Sweat trickled across Shepherd’s forehead, and his muscles tightened. He maintained laser focus on the monsters before him, but his pulse thumped in his eardrums. Shepherd, Bard, and Wesson sprayed bullets into the growing mass of Skulls. More glass broke, more claws echoed in the building. More howls sounded. The emergency exit door burst open, and another half dozen Skulls barreled into the hall.

The Skulls came at them from both sides, crashing against each other and the walls in their unfettered bloodlust. Flashes of gunfire exploded from the soldiers’ muzzles, bringing down Skull after Skull. But it wouldn’t be enough. The creatures were gaining ground at the expense of their fallen brethren. Shepherd knew they couldn’t stay here. The voices spewing forth from his radio sounded more panicked than ever, adding to the growing cacophony.

He couldn’t hold out here; his men couldn’t hold out elsewhere.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end of Fort Detrick.

-10-

––––––––

Dom helped Glenn boot the next batch of computers. They’d already searched seven of the labs on their list and made it through two floors. At least two dozen Skulls had fallen to their suppressed, armor-piercing gunfire. The Hunters’ packs were overloaded with samples, and hordes of previously unavailable research had been sent back to the Huntress with their sat links. Divya had indeed been a boon to their mission. She’d pointed them right to unassuming samples that might prove critical to their research.

They finished loading their findings from yet another lab. Before they reentered the hall en route to their next stop, Dom motioned for the team to pause.

“Bravo, Alpha here. Anything new?” Dom asked.

“Nothing,” Renee said. “Navid’s passed out again, but Meredith thinks he’s stable. Just exhausted to the point of delirium. He’ll need medical attention back on the ship, but he said something about being a researcher at Mass Gen. He might be able to help more than we thought.”

“Roger. I know the guy needs his rest, but see if he can point us to anything we may have overlooked.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“All right, let’s move out!” Dom nudged open the lab’s door. The team filed out after him into the hallway.

They prowled, careful not to step on the shattered remnants of glass beakers and flasks. A tangle of IV tubes rested against one wall like a plastic tumbleweed. They made it to a T-intersection, and Dom glanced at the map on his watch. He gestured to Miguel to guard the left hall while he prepared to take the right. Counting down with his fingers, Dom gave the signal to go, and Miguel twisted around the corner. Dom leaned around his.

“Clear,” Miguel said in a low voice.

“Two contacts,” Dom said. The Skulls scratched at a door about twenty yards down the hall. Their movements seemed lethargic, as if they’d been at the task for days. The gouges in the door and surrounding doorframe seemed to support the hypothesis. He caught them in his sights and dispatched them with two quick shots. Neither let out so much as a whimper when they slumped to the floor.

“Move out,” Dom said. “Miguel, on point.”

Miguel led the group the rest of the way down the littered hallway. He stopped at the door the Skulls had been trying to pry into. “This is it.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Well-practiced by now, Miguel knocked the locked handle loose. Jenna and Terrence stood on the other side of the entrance, their rifles at the ready. Like a protective shadow, Glenn waited beside Divya.

Miguel threw his shoulder into the door. This time, it didn’t break open freely. He furrowed his brow and rammed it again. “Something’s in the way.” He backed up, giving himself room to gain momentum, and ran at the door. There was a loud crash, and he tumbled in. Terrence and Jenna rushed through to cover Miguel.

Dom followed, playing his muzzle across the room. He stepped over a fallen shelf, the culprit behind the crash and the stubborn door. Books littered the floor. Like many of the labs they’d infiltrated, black lab benches jutted out from the walls. Several large glass panels shielded chemical fume hoods, and glassware rested across the benches and within the hoods. The lab looked the same as the others. But there was something else drastically different.

“Good God,” Terrence exclaimed, one gloved hand over his nose. “What the fuck is that?”

“Smells like...death,” Jenna said.

Divya scrunched her nose and sniffed the air. “I don’t think you’re far off from the truth.”

A moan sounded from a dark corner of the vast lab.

“The fuck was that?” Miguel asked.

Dom signaled for Miguel to follow his lead. They crept toward the far reaches of the space. Sweat trickled across Dom’s brow, but he kept his eyes open, scanning the dark corners for the cause of the sound.

The noise came again. Not a Skull...or at least, not one Dom had heard before. More like an agonized groan.

Dom rounded a lab bench and saw the source of the noise. Four humans lay huddled in the corner. There was no outward sign that the Oni Agent had affected them. The only bony protuberances Dom saw were their jutting cheekbones pressing against their thin skin. Its appearance, colorless and almost translucent, wasn’t the result of a biological weapon.

They were starving.

“Survivors! Divya!” Dom said.

Divya rushed toward them with Glenn tailing her. “Oh my God!”

She knelt next to one man and gently lifted his wrist. His emaciated arms looked ready to break even in Divya’s careful grip. He wore a white T-shirt covered in unrecognizable stains and slacks that must’ve belonged to the suit jacket he had draped over himself like a blanket. His eyes seemed to bulge from his head. Divya flashed a light over his face, but his pupils didn’t seem to adjust.

“He’s alive, but there’s no telling how long he’ll last.” She moved to the next survivor. The woman wore a white coat, either a doctor or a researcher. Another woman had scrubs, once a subdued green, now mottled with splotches of dried blood. A ragged beard draped off the gaunt face of the final survivor. He too wore scrubs.

“She’s gone.” Divya’s expression dropped, her shoulders slumping, as she gestured to the woman in the lab coat. She knelt next to the other woman and checked her vitals then moved on to the man with the beard. “They’re both still with us. We need water.”

Glenn dug through his supplies and handed Divya an extra bottle.

The man with the beard groaned. His long, skinny arms reached out desperately. Divya held the bottle to his cracked lips but only let him have a sip. He grappled with the bottle, his fingers pulling against Divya’s.

“No,” she said. She turned to the others. “They’re dehydrated and starving, but if they fill their stomachs too fast, they’ll kill themselves. They need proper medical attention.”

“We need to get them to the ship,” Dom said.

Divya nodded. “We can help keep them alive a little longer here, but we don’t have the supplies to get them recovered.”

“Check it out,” Jenna said, walking over with two plastic cards in her hands. “ID badges.” She pointed to the woman in scrubs. “She’s a nurse, and he’s”—she indicated the man with the suit jacket—”he must be a scientist. Says PhD right here.” She tapped on the badge.

“We got to bring ‘em back, Chief,” Miguel said. “We can’t leave ‘em here.”

“Whoa, hold on.” Terrence waved a hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but they don’t look like they’re going to make it. What do we do? Bring ‘em with us on the rest of our trip through the hospital? No way they’ll make it.”

Divya helped the woman in scrubs take a sip of water before moving to the man with the suit jacket. He let out a long groan. His fingers twitched for the water bottle. Divya’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Terrence is right. We can’t haul them around with us. And...” She exhaled slowly. “And if we leave them here while we go on, I’m not sure they’ll live.” She nodded toward the dead woman to emphasize her point. “I can stay behind and watch them.”

“No,” Dom said. “We aren’t splitting up. Not in here. Not now.” He surveyed the lab again. They only had a few more to investigate, and they’d be on their way to the Huntress. The ship was anchored a mere three-minute flight away. “I’m guessing these people might last long enough to leave with us when we’re done here. But we can’t fit them on the chopper with us.”

Miguel’s eyes went wide. “Chief, you just going to leave ‘em here?”

“No, absolutely not,” Dom said. “Frank, this is Alpha. Do you read?”

“Roger, Alpha.”

“We’ve got some survivors. I want you to take them back to the ship. How long before you can be on the roof?”

“Give me five.”

“We’ve got five minutes,” Dom said to the Hunters. “I don’t want Frank idling on the roof with those rotors thumping and calling the Skulls to dinner. Got it?”

The others nodded. He glanced at Terrence then Glenn, the two largest Hunters on his team. “You each grab one.”

They bent to scoop their arms under the scrawny survivors. Dom slung his SCAR-H across his back and cradled the woman in the scrubs. She barely had the strength to keep her neck straight, but Dom thought he saw her mouth move like she was trying to say something. Thank you, maybe. But he didn’t think they deserved it yet. He couldn’t guarantee these people’s safety.

“Miguel, on point. Jenna, rear guard. Everybody else, first sign of danger, we get the fuck out of there. If it looks like we need to fight, you drop these people and fire.” Dom carried the woman to the door. It seemed as if she weighed no more than his rifle. “Let’s roll!”

Miguel pushed open the door and spilled into the hallway. “Clear!”

The others followed, with Jenna exiting last. They ran down the hall, dodging the debris. Glenn, his view partially obstructed by the man he carried, kicked a gurney. It clattered against the cinder-block wall. A loud howl followed from one of the offices connected to the hallway before them.

A Skull lunged from the doorway. Miguel fired, but the monster moved too fast. It careened toward him. Dropping his rifle, Miguel caught the monster’s arcing clawed hands by its wrists. Dom lowered the woman he was holding, ready to aid the Hunter.

The Skull’s teeth snapped and ground together. It sprayed spittle across Miguel’s face, but the Hunter fought back. He planted a boot into the Skull’s chest and sent it cracking against the wall. With one fluid motion, he twisted his prosthetic hand and thrust it forward. The hidden blade shot out from his mechanical arm and impaled the creature through its open mouth. The Skull’s legs flailed, and its arms thrashed. Miguel twisted the blade, and the Skull’s limbs drooped, listless and dead. He pulled the arm back, flicked the blood off, and retracted the knife.

“Asshole.” He spat on the dead Skull and picked up his rifle.

A momentary silence fell over the hall again. The Hunters continued, sneaking toward the stairwell. But the quiet didn’t last long.

A growing clamor followed them. Low growls and sharp, hurried footsteps bounced off the walls.

“Keep going!” Dom ordered.

The Hunters picked up their pace, rushing for the stairwell. No longer did they take careful steps or avoid the garbage piled over their path. Their boots crunched over plastic and glass, but the sounds were drowned out by the sound of their demonic pursuers.

One of the Skulls scrambled around a corner. When it caught sight of the Hunters, it let out a shrill howl. The others joined in the hunting cry and wheeled around after it. The pack filled the hall. A few in front were so frenzied by the hunt they fell forward but continued their pursuit, galloping on all fours.

The Hunters let loose a salvo of gunfire. Four Skulls fell and were quickly trampled by their twisted brethren. They fired again and again. Bullets cut into bone, tearing into flesh. The floor quickly grew slick with blood and gore, and the Skulls tripped and crashed over each other. But the sheer number of them kept the monsters roiling forward. When one died, two more replaced it.

Miguel knocked open the stairwell door and held it open for the others. Dom ran past, leading now with Divya by his side.

“Take my pistol,” he barked at her.

Her lips trembled and her limbs shook, but she nodded silently and grabbed the handgun from Dom’s holster. They continued up the stairs.

“Fire in the hole!” Jenna yelled when she dashed into the stairwell. Miguel held the door open while she pulled the trigger on the FN40 grenade launcher attached to her SCAR-H. The grenade flew out with a whoomph. Miguel slammed the door shut. The blast sent waves of heat flowing under the stairwell door, chasing Alpha team. They rounded their way to the next landing.

“Frank, what’s your ETA?” Dom asked between breaths.

“Hospital roof’s in sight. Forty seconds.”

“Perfect.”

Another voice called over the comm link. Renee. “Alpha, you okay? We saw fire in the hospital.”

“Skulls,” Dom replied. “We woke up a hive of ‘em.”

“Need our help?”

“Negative,” Dom said. “Stand down, and stay out of harm’s way.”

The first Skull crashed against the door below. More and more creatures pounded against the door. It gave way, and the shrieks and footsteps of the creatures followed. Miguel and Jenna leaned over the handrails. They directed a barrage of gunfire at the Skulls. More pained shrieks, more clicking claws and rattling bones.

Dom glanced up. One more floor. The woman in his arms shivered. “We’re almost out of here.”

Something pounced from the shadows above. Dom dodged, and the thing slammed against the wall next to him. He kicked at it but didn’t let the woman go. “Divya!”

The doctor’s arms quivered, holding the handgun unsteadily, as she wheeled around. The pouncing Skull coiled to attack again. Divya fired. The bullet smashed into the wall, and the pistol almost flew out of the doctor’s grip. She trembled, taking aim again. The Skull leapt.

Dom swept out with his leg again. His boot connected with the creature’s chest, throwing it off balance. It missed Divya and hit the handrails. Its momentum carried it over. It cartwheeled and plummeted into the masses of other creatures below.

The bloodcurdling howls grew louder, and Dom’s heart beat faster. He took the last few steps three at a time, lunging upward, determined to escape onto the roof. Reaching the landing, he turned and threw his shoulder into the door. It whooshed open and slammed against the wall outside.

Waves of wind swept over him. The woman he was carrying still trembled in his arms. Her long, matted hair whipped about. Divya leveled the pistol before her, watching the doorway. Glenn and Terrence rushed out with their charges, and Jenna and Miguel followed. Miguel slammed the door shut and pressed his body against it. Grimacing, Jenna helped him hold the door against the Skulls’ onslaught.

The chopper’s wheels hit the roof, and Dom sprinted forward with the nurse in his arms. Glenn and Terrence followed, ducking under the rotor wash. Divya sprinted ahead and threw open the side door. They strapped the survivors into the passenger seats. Glenn and Terrence hopped off the chopper and ran back to the door to help Jenna and Miguel. Divya held a rail along the open door, lowering herself down.

Dom grabbed her shoulder. “No, you’re going back with the patients.”

“But—”

“You keep them alive. They need you now, and we’re almost done here anyway.”

She nodded and held out the handgun he’d lent her.

Dom took it and holstered it. “Thanks, Doc. You’ve been a tremendous help here. Now, go help them.” He hopped out of the chopper’s cabin but left the door open. “Frank, give me one second. Got some presents for Lauren.”

He ran between the Hunters and snagged a few of the packs filled with scavenged lab supplies. They’d grown heavy with the samples they’d collected. He tossed the bags into the cabin.

“Take care of the patients and take care of these,” Dom said to Divya. She gave him a curt nod, and he slammed the side door shut. With a slap on the side of the fuselage, he signaled for Frank to ferry his new passengers back to the Huntress. The bird ascended and banked hard, headed eastward to the bay.

Miguel still pushed against the stairwell door. His feet dug in and his jaw clenched while he struggled to keep the door shut. The others pressed their hands against it, grunting. Dom ran to join them. He performed a tactical reload in preparation for the ensuing battle. While he clicked his magazine into place, something else caught his ears. A loud smashing. Like stones crumbling and falling apart.

“Alpha, this is Bravo,” Renee’s voice sounded over the comm link. “You need to get the fuck out of there!”

“What’s going on?” Dom called back.

“You got climbers headed toward your position.” The hospital seemed to quake again. One part of the low brick wall that surrounded the roof crumbled and fell away. A deafening bellow answered before Renee could continue. More followed, drowning out the comm link and the thumping of the chopper flying away.

Dom ran to the edge of the roof and peered over. Goliaths, six of them, were scaling the side of the hospital. They ascended slowly, punching their fists into the windows and wall to create handholds. Speeding past them, other normal-sized Skulls jumped and leapt from handhold to handhold.

With his left hand, Dom opened the side port of the FN40 grenade launcher attached to his rifle. He inserted a grenade case and locked the barrel closed again. It was time to see how well these new weapons performed against the Goliaths.

-11-

––––––––

Lauren rushed through the hatch to the medical bay. Kara sat at one of the desks near the lab, intently staring at a screen. She was manipulating a spindly three-dimensional shape on the monitor, and Lauren’s noisy entrance hadn’t broken her concentration. At the young woman’s feet, Maggie slept, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. Sadie was reclining in one of the patient beds.

“Kara, want to help with something?”

Kara jumped. “Oh, sorry, what? I think I’m on the right track with the FoldIt program.”

“Good, good,” Lauren said. “But we’re going to have to put that on hold.”

“What’s up?”

Peter and Sean barged into the medical bay.

“We got your page,” Peter said.

Sadie yawned, stretching her arms, and blinked, taking in the newly assembled group.

“We’ve got three survivors being ferried back now. ETA three minutes. All dehydrated and starving. Holdouts in the hospital. Peter, Sean, get IV drips ready.” The two other doctors nodded and started digging through the supply closet. “Kara, help me assemble our gurneys.”

“Of course.” Kara jumped out of the desk chair and came to Lauren’s side.

“Can I help?” Sadie asked.

Lauren counted the medical team’s numbers. They had three patients coming in. That meant three gurneys and three teams of two. “We need more people to help when Frank arrives. Go grab Samantha and Adam from the workshop!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sadie said and sprinted out the hatch. Maggie barked and ran behind the girl.

Lauren and Kara finished assembling two gurneys while Sean and Peter took care of another.

“Is my dad’s team still okay?” Kara asked.

“Last I heard, they were doing well. Grabbed a ton of data and samples, too.”

Kara smiled. “Good to hear.” She stood next to one of the gurneys.

“Ready?” Lauren asked the team.

“Let’s do this!” Peter said. He and Sean each grabbed a gurney. Kara held the third.

Lauren led them from the medical bay. They were greeted by hurried footsteps down the passageway. Samantha waved at them, her tattooed arms bare, and Adam bounded behind her, his brow furrowed beneath his thick-framed glasses. Sadie and Maggie trailed behind. The group ran up the steel steps leading to the helipad, and Lauren opened the outer hatch just as the AW109 touched down. The side door flew open. Lauren waved the team onward but signaled for Sadie and Maggie to wait inside the ship. The rest of them sprinted toward where Divya was unharnessing the survivors. 

Lauren almost gasped aloud. Their skin hung off their bones like burlap sacks around a scarecrow’s twig arms.

“Let’s be extra careful!” She yelled to be heard over the growl of the chopper’s engine. The others nodded. She helped Divya load the first patient, a woman in scrubs, into a gurney. Adam and Peter took the patient and gurney away. Next, they loaded a man with a scraggly beard, and Samantha and Sean rushed away with him.

Kara steadied the last gurney while Divya and Lauren lowered another man into it. The man moaned, and his fingers twitched.

“You’re going to be okay,” Divya said. “You’re in good hands now.”

Lauren and Kara rushed the man into the ship. Divya ran alongside them. They made it down the passageway and back into the medical bay. Peter and Sean had already gotten IV lines into the other two. Lauren rubbed a spot on the man’s arm. It wasn’t hard to find a vein with how thin his skin had become. But despite identifying a vein, the vessels had stiffened with dehydration, which made inserting a needle more difficult. She stuck the needle in, trying to be careful not to tear his already weak tissue too much. The needle slid past the rigid vein. She’d missed on the first try. She could almost hear the clock ticking down for this man’s life. Steadying her hands, she tried again. She squinted and held her breath. Slower, steadier. The needle slipped into his vein.

With the needle in, she adjusted the IV drip and then gazed at the other two patients. Divya, Sean, and Peter finished hooking up their biomonitors to gauge their new patients’ health. Already the IV drips and medical attention were stabilizing their vitals. If they were lucky, she could bring these people back from the edge of death. And if what Dom’s team had reported about these survivors was true, they might end up with more medical personnel in the fight against the Oni Agent.

A hiss caught Lauren’s attention. She swiveled back toward the man she’d helped. His fingers curled, indicating for her to come closer.

“Is something wrong?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he managed, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. The words came out slightly garbled. He held his arm out and pointed to the woman in scrubs. “Wife...my wife...”

“That’s your wife?” Lauren glanced at the nurse recovering in another bed.

“Our son...”

Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. “There was no one else on the chopper. Right, Divya?”

Divya shook her head. “These were the only people in the lab.”

“No!” the man said. He licked his cracked lips. “No, he went...to get us food. Our son...can....can you help him?”

***

Shepherd took one second to assess the Skulls charging from either end of the hall. He fired off a final spray of gunfire. Bullets punched into the nearest creatures. Their bodies flopped onto the floor. The other Skulls collided into each other, leaping over the fresh corpses, desperate to feed.

There was no way they were going to fight off this many monsters and live.

“Follow me!” Shepherd yelled. He darted straight at the Skulls filing in from the emergency exit, then veered hard right into one of the offices. Wesson and Bard sprinted after.

Shepherd slammed the door shut behind them. He pushed one of the heavy metal desks to block the door. Wesson and Bard needed no orders to join in. They piled hefty filing cabinets and desks to bolster the makeshift barricade. The roars of the Skulls and their scraping claws resounded in the small office. One of the filing cabinets against the door toppled, spilling folders and papers. The creatures pounded the door in a relentless frenzy.

“Sir, are we just going to wait it out?” Wesson asked, his eyes wide. His fingers twitched nervously on the stock of his M16.

“No, Private. We’re moving.” Shepherd strode the five steps it took to cross the room. He pressed his hand against the window and peered out into the night. Fires still burned across the street and around the tarmac, where now only a few Black Hawks remained among the pile of torn metal. Ghoulish silhouettes of Skulls played across the orange-and-yellow flames. He saw no living soldiers, no remnants of the 82nd. No signs of Jackson.

Shepherd pushed open the window. Three Skulls ran through a patch of trees near the office building. They craned their heads at the din of the other Skulls hungry for Shepherd’s flesh. Seeming to spot him, they galloped straight toward the open window. Long claws stretched from their fingers, and Shepherd felt a momentary wash of remorse when he saw they each wore Army-issued ACUs. He lined them up in his sights and squeezed the trigger. Three shots later, three new bodies littered the lawn.

Shepherd lowered himself out of the open window and dropped to the grass below. “Move, move!” he said.

Wesson slipped through next, followed by Bard. They sprinted for the trees and leapt over the trio of newly dead Skulls. When they reached the shelter of the tree trunks, Shepherd gestured for the two men to lie low. He shouldered his M16 and played its sights on the window they’d escaped from, now fifty yards away. Another filing cabinet toppled, and the desks shook. The door burst open, tossing the desks aside.

Frantic Skulls filled the room. They shoved each other, each determined to be the first to get at their prey. Their howls reached Shepherd’s ears even from where he hid. He watched the monsters’ eyes sweep back and forth. Their noses twitched, and their ears perked. More filled the room until they start pushing themselves out the window and running across the lawn. They scattered in all directions to search for their runaway quarry.

Shepherd turned to face the opposite direction and pointed to one of the now-silent Black Hawks. “That’s where I last saw Jackson.” A handful of Skulls ran between the bent blades of the wrecked birds, and a couple climbed over a Black Hawk that appeared to still be in working condition.

Something moved within the cabin of the Black Hawk. The engines started up, and the blades started rotating. They sheared through the bodies of two Skulls that had been sniffing and investigating the bird from atop the fuselage. Blood sprayed from the monsters’ torn body parts.

“Guy’s trying to escape,” Wesson whispered.

But the attempt was short-lived. Three more Skulls jumped on the Black Hawk’s cockpit, punching the glass. Cracks fractured across it until the windshield burst, and one of the Skulls reached in with a sinewy arm. It yanked the pilot through the broken shards and pulled him onto the tarmac. The others pounced on the soldier, and his agonized screams echoed into the night.

“There’s no way Jackson made it through that, sir,” Bard said.

“Jackson’s resourceful. He made it,” Shepherd said, trying to convince himself his words were true. “But regardless of what happened to him, we need those AT4s.”

The bellows of the three remaining Goliaths punctuated the ebb and flow of the smaller Skulls’ hunting cries. He saw one of the Goliaths pounding after a Humvee. The roof gunner sprayed the beast. Bullets sparked and ricocheted off the monster. For a moment it looked like the Humvee crew might bring the behemoth down. But a wave of Skulls swept over the vehicle. One of the creatures grabbed the roof gunner and bit into his flesh. The Humvee driver lost control, and they slammed into the perimeter wall of the base.

Shepherd wondered if the AT4s would be enough. Would rocket launchers really matter? All the same, what else could he do? Retreat back to command until the Skulls overwhelmed them there, too?

“Come on,” Shepherd said, standing. “We don’t have much time. Stay low, stay frosty, and don’t let those fuckers see you.”

Another pair of Skulls ran across the street, dodging between a wrecked MP Humvee and an empty ambulance. Shepherd waited for them to pass and then sprinted toward the ambulance. He crouched near its front tire and signaled for Bard to come next. The man slid into place next to Shepherd, gasping for breath.

Shepherd gestured to Wesson. The private sprinted out from under the trees and across the lawn, his rifle in one hand. A shriek echoed somewhere to his left, and then a Skull bounded from another patch of foliage toward Wesson. The private stopped, shouldered his rifle, and fired at the charging creature. The bark of the weapon punctuated the night air. Rounds slammed into the monster, and it went down hard. But other nearby creatures had heard. They barreled from around the street, from the office building Shepherd had just abandoned, and from the trees lining the lawn. While Shepherd and Bard were still crouched near the front tire of the ambulance, two Skulls leapt over the roof of the vehicle, their gazes glued on Wesson. Bard gasped, and Shepherd held a finger up to silence him.

“No way,” Bard said. He shouldered his rifle and aimed at the creatures.

Shepherd aimed his M16 in concert with Bard, but both held their fire. Wesson sprayed madly at the encroaching circle of Skulls. Shepherd could see the man wouldn’t stand a chance. He lowered his weapon and pushed Bard’s barrel down. A pang of guilt stabbed through him. The private had trusted him, and Shepherd had failed.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“The fuck there is!” Bard stood, shirking Shepherd’s order, and aimed the gun. Shepherd grabbed the barrel of the M16 and directed it toward the street.

“Stand down, soldier!”

It seemed almost a hundred Skulls were now charging Wesson’s position. The first dozen reached him and tore into his body. The man’s yells devolved into gurgles, quickly replaced by the hungry grunts of the Skulls.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Bard asked.

“Shut up and follow me!” Shepherd said. He grabbed the private roughly by the shoulder and led him toward the charred husk of a Black Hawk’s fuselage. Once they got inside, Shepherd started sifting through the wreckage for any sign of the AT4s the 82nd was supposed to have on hand. “If we tried to save Wesson, it would’ve gotten all three of us killed.”

“I’d rather die trying to save him than let him die like that.”

Shepherd glared at the insubordinate private. “And that’s why you’re not leading this mission.”

Bard looked down, not meeting Shepherd’s eyes.

“We have the rest of the goddamned base depending on us,” Shepherd said. “What do you think happens if we die? Who’s going to stop the Goliaths? If we die, so do other men and women, families, children. Enlisted, civilians. You want to let them all die on account of your bullheadedness?”

The private exhaled slowly. His head drooped. “No, sir.”

“Then help me find the goddamned AT4s so we have some real firepower against those fucking monsters.”

-12-

––––––––

Dom loaded the first grenade shell into his FN40 and pulled back the grenade launcher’s trigger. The grenade blasted from the wide barrel with a hollow whoomph and slammed into the first Goliath. A cloud of fire and rubble plumed around the beast’s body. Its two front claws lost their grip on the side of the hospital, and it tilted backward. Gravity did the rest of the work, pulling its heavy body back to the earth. The plates along its chest had been torn open, and its glistening, devastated organs were exposed to the open air. It smashed a police car, forming a small crater in the asphalt. Its enormous limbs twitched and then went still.

“How you doing there, Chief?” Miguel said between grunts, still desperately holding the door closed to the stairwell.

“One down, five to go.” Dom reloaded and sighted up the next closest Goliath. It was a mere two floors away from reaching the roof. Glass shards sprayed and fell when it punched through a window, creating a new handhold.

Dom pulled the FN40’s trigger. The explosive round whistled through the air and slammed against the Goliath’s arm. Bone fragments and flesh burst from the blast like macabre fireworks. The beast’s arm fell away, severed from its body. Its other hand lost its grip with the concussive force of the blast, and the Goliath lost its battle against gravity. While it tumbled through the air, the massive plates and spikes protruding from its body caught other smaller Skulls climbing the hospital. They were knocked off and dropped toward the street. The Goliath hit the ground first, splitting the sidewalk. Smacks of flesh and bone hitting concrete and asphalt followed as the other Skulls rained down around it.

Dom reloaded and brought down a third Goliath. The beast dropped from the wall in a burst of broken brick and shattered bones. Dom could feel a grin fighting to spread across his face. For once, he felt like they actually had a real, solid advantage against these abominations. That fleeting thought vanished when a Goliath lunged upward and wrapped its gargantuan claws around the lip of the roof. It hoisted itself up, bellowing and snarling. Dom fumbled to reload the grenade launcher. The monster began its charge. He backed away, trying to fit the grenade case into the barrel.

A low whump sounded to his right, and the Goliath’s chest exploded. A wave of heat rolled over Dom. The concussive force knocked him back, and his fingers loosened around the grenade case in his gloved hand. It fell and rolled at his feet. His ears rang, and he reached to recover the grenade. His fingers trembled with adrenaline, but he snagged the grenade and loaded it. All the while, he watched tendrils of smoke drifting up from the Goliath’s busted ribcage. The beast clutched at its chest, crimson liquid forming rivulets between its bony fingers and from the corners of its tusked mouth. It fell face-first, and a small quake forced Dom to kneel and steady himself. He turned to the other Hunters barricading the door, and Jenna shot him a thumbs-up, the barrel of her FN40GL still smoking slightly. 

“Got your back, Captain,” she said.

Glenn didn’t look so pleased. “Captain, we can’t hold this goddamned door much longer.”

“He’s got that right,” Terrence said.

“Just two more of the Goliaths to go,” Dom said. He leaned over the side of the roof to sight the monster in. But instead of getting a shot off, he jumped back as the arcing claw of a Goliath smashed down like a falling tree. Stone fragments and concrete burst up. The impact sent fractures through the spot where he’d just been.

The Goliath lunged onto the roof. A second followed closed behind. Dom took his finger off the FN40GL. Firing the grenade launcher at this proximity would easily kill one of the monsters, but it would also kill Dom. He backed away, spraying the closest Goliath with a wall of gunfire instead. The armor-piercing rounds cut through the Goliath’s bone plates, but it continued implacably forward. The second Goliath barreled past the first. Dom dodged to the side, and it careened onward.

“Move!” Dom yelled to the others. They scattered. As they did, the door burst open. Skulls poured forth, their claws skittering against the roof. But they didn’t make it far.

The Goliath, carried by its momentum, rammed into the stairwell entrance. It crushed the Skulls trying to escape. Miguel took advantage of the opportunity and launched a grenade at the monster. A geyser of gore and blood shot into the air along with a billowing cloud of dust. The stairwell entrance collapsed around the Goliath, burying the gargantuan body and the Skulls writhing beneath it.

The second giant Skull, injured but still lumbering forward, lashed out at Dom. He ducked under the beast’s crooked talons and rolled to his left in time to avoid another hammering blow.

Glenn and Terrence opened up on the Goliath. Bullets crashed into the monster. Its bloodshot eyes peered around as if it were struggling to choose its next target. The Hunters formed a perimeter around the beast, beating it back with gunfire from multiple sides. It swatted at the air like a demonic King Kong atop the Empire State Building. Backward it went, until one of its talons caught the edge of the roof, and it toppled over, tumbling toward the earth.

A few persistent Skulls clambered over the edge of the roof, but the Hunters picked them off with ease, sending them back to the hell where they belonged. Dom panted and signaled to his sweat-soaked Hunters to fall in around him once they finished off the last of the creatures.

Miguel kicked at the charred and bloodied remains of one of the Goliaths. “Chief, didn’t Lauren want a sample of one of these?”

“You got that right,” Dom said. “Bring some of this fresh meat back for her to check out. I want to know why the hell these guys are popping up everywhere.”

“On it.” Miguel bent over the glistening entrails of the giant beast and started collecting tissue samples within his vials.

“Alpha, this Bravo,” Renee’s voice came in over the comm link. “You guys okay? Looks like the Fourth of July over there.”

“We’re alive and well,” Dom said. He glanced at the remnants of the stairwell entrance, now nothing more than a pile of tangled limbs and rubble. “But we’re going to need a better way off this roof.”

“What? You forget your parachutes?” Frank’s smooth voice came over the comm link. “I’m five minutes from your position if you don’t feel like jumping.”

“That’s not going to be fast enough,” Renee said.

Dom looked at the other Hunters. “Why not?”

“Your little show seems to have the other Skulls wondering what they missed. I’m watching waves of them headed your way, hundreds deep. Not to mention you’ve got at least two dozen Goliaths coming from separate directions.”

“Two dozen,” Dom muttered. “Shit.”

“Exactly. From what I’m seeing through my binos, you guys need to move.”

Glenn gestured toward the dead Goliath clogging the stairwell. “Want to try blowing him out of the way?”

“That’ll just bring down the rest of the stairwell,” Jenna said.

Dom leaned over the edge of the roof again. Sure enough, he could see Skulls already beginning their ascent. Then he spotted the huge holes in the walls where the Goliaths had created handholds for themselves to climb. “I think I’ve got a way back in.”

***

Renee lowered her binos and slipped back down into the Zodiac. The craft bobbed and swayed with the choppy waves.

“Anything we can do?” Meredith asked.

“Don’t know yet. Dom still wants us to stay here. Not like we can realistically fight through the streets to the hospital.” Renee turned to Navid. “You still doing okay?”

“Yes.” He gave her a weak smile. The color in his lips had returned. “Thank you for saving me. I didn’t think the Army ever saw my SOS.”

“Oh, we’re not Army,” Andris said.

Navid’s brow creased in wrinkles. “Who are you?”

Renee shrugged. “Just people with a boat and some guns. Look, the rest of our team is trapped on the roof right now. Even if they get into the hospital, is there any way for them to escape? The streets are flooded with Skulls.”

“Skulls?” Navid asked, cocking his head.

“The monsters. The creatures. Skulls.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t really know...” He let his words trail off, but then his eyes brightened. “Ah, the T!”

“The T?” Spencer asked. “The subway system?”

“Yes, yes!” Navid said. “I used to take it every day. Just a block or so away from the hospital. If they can get down there, they can take the tunnel to the Science Park.” He straightened up and gestured to a drawbridge downriver, closer to the bay. The Museum of Science’s silhouette stretched along the river, parallel with the bridge. “They can come up through there, and we can pick them up.”

Spencer clapped Navid’s shoulder. “I like this kid. He’s got ideas. We need ideas.”

Renee nodded and spoke into the comm link. “Huntress, this is Bravo. Can you get maps of Boston’s T system to our smartwatches?”

“Affirmative, Bravo. Consider it done,” Chao replied. “Bravo, I’m on a private line with you now. Lauren told me the survivors Alpha rescued had a son. He might still be in the hospital.”

Renee knew what Chao was asking before the question came out. “And you’re worried if you tell Dom that he’s going to tear the place apart looking for that kid at the risk of his own life?”

“Exactly,” Chao said.

“You know Dom would kill you if you withheld that information.”

“Better than sending him on a wild goose chase that kills him.”

“Dom’s going to want to know,” Renee said, almost reluctantly. “Got to at least tell him.”

“You’re right, I’ll let Dom know as soon as they find a way back into the hospital.”

“Good.” Renee glanced at Navid, wondering if the man might still have a few helpful ideas for them. “Chao, where did the parents say the kid was?”

“They were all holing up in a lab one of the kid’s parents worked in. Apparently, when they were starving, they started feeding the kid rather than themselves. The boy snuck out of the lab; they think he went to get them food.”

“How the hell did the boy sneak past Skulls?”

“Hide-and-seek world champion?” Spencer offered lamely.

“No idea,” Chao said. “But the point is, he’s in that hospital somewhere, either as a Skull or an eight-year-old kid with no idea where his parents went.”

“Shit. Okay.” Renee glanced at the hospital blueprints on her smartwatch. “Navid, there might be a boy alive somewhere in the hospital. Can you tell me where he might’ve gone if he was looking for food?”

Navid’s head bobbed. “My first guess would be the cafeteria.”

Renee scrolled to the location on her map. “Here?”

“Yeah,” Navid said, his voice lower than before.

Renee sensed a hint of hesitation in his reply. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I tried to go to the cafeteria when Abby and I were starving, but it was overrun by those...by those Skulls. I don’t know how a little boy could survive that.”

-13-

––––––––

“More Skulls are climbing,” Dom said to the others. “We’re going to need to do the same.”

“It’s a hell of a drop, Chief,” Miguel said, peering over the edge.

“We don’t have far to go.” Dom pointed to where one of the Goliaths had punched through the wall. “Just a quick swing into there.”

Miguel shot him a wary look, both eyebrows raised. The first wave of Skulls were halfway up.

“Let’s go!” Dom yelled. “Miguel, you first!”

The Hunter shook his head but leapt over the edge of the roof. He clung to it with his prosthetic, fumbling for a foothold. His boot connected with the top of a window frame.

“Okay, I got this,” he said. “It ain’t so bad.”

He lowered himself next to the window and then dove into the hole. He leaned out and shot Dom a thumbs-up.

“Jenna, get moving!” Dom shouldered his SCAR-H and picked off a few Skulls homing in on Miguel’s position. “Cover her!”

Terrence and Glenn took up firing positions. They sent several more Skulls to their deaths as Miguel helped Jenna in.

“Go on!” Dom ordered the other two men to lower themselves in next. A full story under the hole where the other Hunters now were, a Skull screeched and leapt toward them.

With a squeeze of his trigger, Dom riddled the creature’s body with bullets. The monster cartwheeled backward and slammed into another. They both wailed, crashing into others on their way down, and caused a miniature avalanche of tumbling Skulls. The creatures’ bodies let out a sickening thud when they hit the street and rained down on abandoned vehicles. But the ten or so creatures that had died hardly put a dent in the horde of monsters still scrambling for the Hunters.

Dom slung his rifle across his back and climbed down. His muscles were sore from the constant running and fighting, and a slight tremor coursed through his legs. His boot caught on a windowsill. The fractured stonework gave way, crumbling. His leg dangled, but Glenn and Miguel reached for him, securing his wrists. They pulled him into the room. Beside the broken bricks and a burst pipe from when the Goliath had smashed the wall, two empty beds were pushed against the wall.

“Huntress, Frank, this is Dom. We’re back in the hospital. We’ve got just three more labs to go, but with all the Skulls, we might call off the hunt early. I’m guessing the helipad is no longer going to be an option. Can you ID an alternative LZ?”

“Affirmative, Alpha,” Chao said. He relayed the information on taking the T line toward the Science Park and meeting up with Bravo. “That’s your best option to get away undetected from the Skulls on the surface.”

“Copy,” Dom said. He motioned for the Hunters to move out of the room. Miguel took point, and they burst through the door. Jenna took rearguard, closing the door behind them as the first couple of Skulls made it into the room.

The team broke into a jog. They played their rifles around the empty halls. A snarling Skull burst from one doorway. It was quickly knocked back with a burst of suppressed gunfire.

They came to a four-way intersection. Dom glanced at his smartwatch. “Left here! There’s another set of stairs at the end of the hall.”

Above them, they heard the scratches and scrapes of the Skulls on the roof. Miguel led the group, picking up their pace, as they ran toward the other stairwell. They rushed down the steps, their boots clicking on tiles. Nothing had followed them yet. Three more floors down, Dom directed them back into the hall.

The clatter of Skulls quieted, separated from them by the extra floors.

“Frank, you got eyes on the hospital yet?” Dom called over the comm link.

“Affirmative,” the pilot replied. “They’re over the place like flies on shit. They’re riled up, but they look pretty directionless.”

“Roger,” Dom said. When they reached the next landing, he signaled for his team to go back into the halls. They ran toward the next laboratory on their list. “We’re going to scrape these last sites. I don’t want to miss anything, but tell me if it looks like we should be busting out early.”

“You got it, Captain,” Frank said.

Pushing open the door, Miguel charged into the lab. The others followed in and quietly scoured the thawed freezer for samples. Glenn set up sat links on the computers.

“Alpha,” Chao said, his voice more hesitant than usual. “We’ve got some new information for you.”

“Ready and waiting, Huntress,” Dom said.

“The survivors you sent back claim to have a son lost somewhere in the hospital. They think he went off to find them food. He might be in the cafeteria.”

“Shit,” Dom muttered. He imagined the boy hiding somewhere, crouched and frightened. Worse, he imagined what would happen if the boy made it back to his parents with food and found them gone. He couldn’t let that happen. “All right, as soon as we’re done here, we’re going to the cafeteria. We’ll search for as long as it’s safe to do so. What’s the boy’s name?”

“Connor,” Chao replied.

The team finished placing vials and other small plastic containers into their collection containers. Glenn unplugged the sat links from the computers when their screens reported one hundred percent data transmission.

“Be careful,” Chao said. “Navid mentioned that the cafeteria was filled with Skulls.”

“Appreciate the info,” Dom replied on their way out of the lab.

Well-practiced by now, they set up the data links and collected samples from the last two labs. A nagging voice in Dom’s head told him to skip the lab collection altogether and go save the boy. But while he wanted to save the child, he also had a mission to find research that might save the world. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when they finished their scavenging.

They rushed out of the last lab. The halls on these lower levels were still eerily quiet. The muffled cries of the Skulls continued outside, but they came across no more than the occasional one or two loners roaming the corridors. Dom used the smartwatch to guide them to the ground floor. There, he motioned for the group to slow. A plastic sign above a set of double doors announced Cafeteria. Dark stains marred the letters, and the fogged glass windows in the door were covered by dried blood.

Frank’s voice crackled over the comm link. “Alpha, major breach on the top floor. Skulls are flooding in.”

“Copy,” Dom replied. “Hunters, let’s make this quick.”

They burst through the doors to the cafeteria. Tables lay askew, several flipped over, others sitting sideways. Chairs were scattered between the tables along with spilled garbage cans. Rotten food and dishes covered the floor. Among the refuse, several dozen Skulls meandered, lethargic and slow.

“Open fire!” Dom caught the closest Skull in his sights—a monster with a twisted, broken leg, barely able to stand. He squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked against his shoulder, and the Skull crumpled.

The other Hunters launched their attacks. Suppressed gunfire burst out, and muzzle flashes punctuated the darkness. The Skulls, now energized by the sight of fresh meat, clambered over the tables and chairs. Bullets ripped into their flesh and cracked against their armor. Their howls intensified, but the Hunters did not relent. Skull after Skull fell. Spent shells clinked against the tiled floor and rolled away. Dom signaled the Hunters forward to finish off the last few monsters. The creatures didn’t stand a chance. They fell and bled out with the rest of their brethren.

“Search the room for any hiding spots!” Dom kicked aside a plastic garbage bag in front of a door to the kitchens. Its contents spilled as it tumbled away. “Connor!”

The other Hunters echoed the name. There was no response.

“Alpha, I can see movement on the third and fourth floor,” Frank said over the comm link. “Skulls are making their way down.”

“Miguel, on me!” Dom called. The Hunter rushed over. “Let’s clear the kitchens.”

Dom burst through the door with Miguel slipping in behind him. The scent of spoiled milk and decaying fruits washed over Dom, followed by a demonic wail. Dom swiveled and played his gun barrel across the stainless steel countertops covered in discarded boxes and open cans of food. A Skull wearing the once-white uniform of a line cook scrambled over an island and knocked aside a rotting, almost unrecognizable hunk of meat. It lunged with its claws splayed and mouth open, revealing a set of jagged teeth.

Dom squeezed the trigger, sending three rounds into the creature’s body. He juked to his right, and the bleeding monster crashed into a shelf full of dishware and cookware. Clanging, the dishes, pans, and pots tumbled over the Skull. Dom aimed the rifle at the creature again, but it didn’t move.

“Clear,” Dom said, lowering his weapon.

“Guy must’ve been a lousy cook, huh, Chief?” Miguel said in a low voice. “Smells like fried shit pancakes in here.”

“Not going to ask how you know that.” Dom nodded toward the walk-in cooler near the back. “Let’s check it out.”

They prowled toward the thick steel door. Dom rapped on it with his knuckles. “Connor? You in there? We’re here to rescue you.” He heard shuffling—footsteps, maybe. “Connor?”

There was a muffled grunt from behind the door.

“You hear that?” Dom asked.

Miguel nodded, leaning close to the door. “Doesn’t sound like one of ‘em, does it?”

Dom pressed the stock of his SCAR-H to his shoulder and exhaled. “We need to check it out.”

Miguel wrapped his fingers around the door handle. Dom held up three fingers and counted down. The door tore open, and Dom directed the rifle into the cooler. Before he could squeeze the trigger, something jumped out. It knocked his weapon from his hands, and he grabbed the thing’s wrists. The creature flailed as Dom struggled to keep it from biting into his flesh. But he quickly realized a snapping bite was the least of his worries. The creature’s lower jaw was missing, and there were uneven holes in its throat. Dark liquid dripped from them. A drop landed on Dom’s face. His skin burned as if someone had pressed a lit cigarette to his cheek.

Miguel jabbed his prosthetic forward and twisted it. The concealed blade slid out and pierced the creature’s eye socket. The orb burst, and the creature reeled back. Another gurgling moan escaped its mouth. Miguel aimed his rifle.

“No, Miguel! Move!” Dom yelled.

Miguel dodged to his left just in time. The Skull leaned forward, and more hot liquid spewed from its mouth where the Hunter had been a moment ago. The spray hit the cardboard boxes on the countertop. The boxes sizzled and dissolved.

Dom took a step back, recovered his rifle, and aimed it at the Skull. He let loose a burst into the creature’s body. The monster fell backward, its limbs twitching, and more dark-brown liquid poured from the fresh wounds in its abdomen. A puddle formed under the corpse, spreading toward the thawed plastic bags of spoiled meat and boxes of expired food. Plastic, paper, and cardboard disintegrated when the liquid touched it.

“The fuck is that?” Miguel asked.

“Don’t have a goddamn clue.” Dom wiped the spot on his cheek, still burning, with the back of his gloved hand. He splashed a little water on it from his bottle. The water helped, but only a little. “Hurts like hell, though.”

“That Skull’s unlike any we’ve ever seen. Lauren’s going to want a sample.”

“Yes, she is. Grab some pictures, take a sample, but hurry,” Dom said. “And be careful.”

“You got it, Chief.” Miguel bent over the creature and snapped a couple of photos with his smartwatch. He used a glass vial to scoop up a tiny sample of the spilled liquid. He held it up, squinting at the substance. “At least the glass didn’t dissolve.”

“Shouldn’t. I’m guessing that stuff is acidic. Glass is going to be fine.” Dom stared at the fresh, strange Skull corpse in the cooler. It had all the telltale signs of the Oni Agent, from its spiked spine to the claws on its fingers. But that acidic substance seemed to have burned through the holes in its throat and dissolved its lower jaw. The liquid continued to seep from where its mouth should’ve been. The thing was different enough to deserve its own classification. “Goddamn Drooler.”

“Droolers, Goliaths, Skulls.” Miguel shook his head. “Where the hell is Connor?” He stood from the Drooler and placed the glass vial in an insulated aluminum case in his pack. “You don’t think this thing was him, do you?”

“Looks too big. Definitely an adult,” Dom said. “Connor’s just a little boy.”

Dom and Miguel crept toward the far end of the kitchen. They cleared a supply cabinet and a pantry—both devoid of Skulls and humans.

“Third floor brimming with Skulls, Captain,” Frank reported over the link.

“Thanks, Frank. Alpha, any signs of Connor?” Dom asked.

“Negative, Captain,” Jenna replied. “Nothing out here.”

Dom was beginning to lose hope. He’d almost lost his daughters, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to tell Connor’s parents that they couldn’t find the boy. But it looked increasingly likely the boy was dead, or, worse, a Skull.

“We going to call it, Chief?” Miguel asked.

Nodding glumly, Dom trod toward the exit leading to the cafeteria. A slight rustle caught his ear, and he froze. “You catch that, Miguel?”

The Hunter shook his head.

Dom peered around. They’d checked the walk-in cooler, the freezer, and the pantries. He squinted through the darkness, then heard the rustling again. “Miguel!”

“Alpha,” Frank’s voice called, slightly more forceful than before. “I know I’m not the captain here, but you guys need to get moving.”

“Roger,” Dom said. “Alpha, prepare to move out. Meet at the south exit of the cafeteria.”

A flurry of affirmatives came back. Miguel joined Dom’s side. “Chief?”

He heard it again. “There!” Dom pointed to a sliding door under one of the kitchen islands. He sprinted to it and then pulled it back. Behind a few stowed pots, he could see a pair of eyes looking back at him.

“Don’t hurt me, please!” the boy cried. He was skinny and covered in grime. He shrank back.

Dom slung his SCAR-H over his back. He pushed aside the stack of pots and brushed away an empty two-gallon can marked Dehydrated Mashed Potatoes. He grabbed the boy under his armpits and pulled him out. The boy thrashed, pounding his fists against Dom’s hands.

“We’re not going to hurt you, Connor,” Dom said, already running with the protesting boy to the cafeteria. Miguel pushed open the door, and they joined the others waiting by the exit into the hallway. The muffled cries of the Skulls permeated into the room.

“Let me go!” Connor yelled.

“We’re good guys,” Dom said. “We found your parents, and we’re here to help you.”

The boy settled at once. “Mom and Dad are with you?”

“Yes, they’re on my ship. Now, we need to be quiet, okay?” Dom readjusted his grip on Connor. “Can’t let the monsters hear us. Just keep holding on to me.”

“Okay, quiet. I was quiet in the kitchen.” He buried his face in Dom’s shoulder, tears streaming from his eyes. “I was gonna get some food, but then I got too scared. Tell them I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, got it?” Dom held the boy in his right arm. He was skinny but not as starved as his parents had been. At least he’d hidden in the kitchen.

Rotating his left wrist, Dom glanced at the smartwatch. “We’re headed toward the Charles/MGH T station. It’s right outside of the north side of the hospital. Maintain radio discipline, keep all noise to a minimum.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” the others replied.

“Good. Miguel, Jenna, you know what to do.”

The two Hunters quickly took their positions within the group, Miguel on point and Jenna on rear guard. They flitted between the strewn garbage and chewed-up bones. A lone wheelchair sat in the middle of the hall with a listing IV pole next to it. Two Skulls lumbered around the atrium with their backs hunched and their shoulder blades cutting viciously out of their demonic silhouettes.

“Miguel, Glenn,” Dom whispered. “Take ‘em out.”

Suppressed shots ended the creatures’ aimless meandering. Their bodies clunked to the cold floor, and the group continued past. The cries of the Skulls above were growing louder, and the Hunters picked up their pace. Massive glass windows and revolving doors led to the main passenger drop-off and loading lanes in front of the hospital. A forest of plastic plants and lobby chairs sat between the Hunters and the exit. They crept between the artificial foliage until they were at the front doors.

“That’s the station,” Dom said, pointing at a round, two-story glass structure across the street.

“We’re taking the train?” Connor asked.

“Not quite.” The street was filled with Skulls climbing over the hoods of cars and ambling between broken storefronts. Two empty M939 trucks blocked the road between the hospital and the T station.

“There’s got to be at least two dozen of them on the street alone,” Glenn said in a low voice. “Plus who knows how many still climbing the side of the hospital.”

A loud cry echoed from down the hall.

“They’re on this level now, too!” Jenna said. “We can’t stay here and fight them off.”

“No, we can’t,” Dom said. “Time to run.”

-14-

––––––––

Shepherd pulled a long green metal case from the wreckage of the Black Hawk. He looked around to make sure no nearby Skulls had heard him. But most were still scrambling toward the Goliaths stomping through Humvees and personnel carriers.

“Is that it?” Bard asked.

Shepherd pried open the dented case. Four cylindrical tubes lay inside. “Here we go.” He pulled them from the case and handed them to Bard. “Know how to use this?”

Bard nodded. “I think so, sir.”

The Skull cries intensified. Shepherd looked out of the scorched fuselage. Nearby, a Goliath pummeled the hood of a jeep. The impact sent the vehicle’s gunner flying. When his body landed, the surrounding Skulls pounced.

“Good lord,” Bard said.

Shepherd moved aside a charred passenger chair. The remains of a soldier were still strapped in. Most of his flesh was gone, with only sinew tenuously connecting his skeleton. Shepherd wondered if the poor bastard might be Jackson, but there was not enough left of the man for him to tell.

Shepherd pushed aside another crate with a busted side. He found the second thing he was looking for: several plastic-wrapped packages of C4. He scrounged deeper in the crate to retrieve a few intact detonators.

“That shit made it through this?” Bard indicated the crashed Black Hawk.

“C4 is surprisingly stable. You know how to set a detonator?”

“I think we covered that in training, but...”

“I’ll do it myself.” Shepherd didn’t want to leave any room for error. He attached the first detonator and primed it with a thirty-second fuse, ready to start when he set it. After placing it down, he grabbed the first AT4 from Bard. “The Skulls are going to be on our position as soon as we fire this. So we’re going to take out that Goliath, set the C4, and make our way to our next position. Got it?”

Bard nodded and took a step back. Shepherd placed the AT4 rocket launcher on his shoulder and sighted up the Goliath laying waste to another jeep. The monster tore the driver from his seat and ripped him to shreds. It discarded the soldier’s remains in the pack of Skulls roiling around its legs. One of the passengers jumped from the vehicle and tried to run. He made it only a few yards before disappearing under a carpet of ravenous Skulls.

After removing the safety pin, Shepherd knelt, keeping the Goliath in his sights. He slid the cocking lever forward and over the top of the tube. Pressing down on the safety lever, he then depressed the firing button with his thumb. The rocket shot from the tube and smashed against the giant Skull. The projectile exploded in a storm of dust, fire, and gore. Fragments of bone and singed flesh burst into the air. Dozens of Skulls flowed toward the remnants of the Goliath, drawn by the blast. Still more started running toward Shepherd’s position.

“Arm the C4, and let’s move!” Shepherd shouted. He discarded the spent AT4. It clunked against a bent Black Hawk rotor stabbing out of the ground.

“Armed and ready!”

“Follow me!” Shepherd sprinted out of the Black Hawk fuselage. His M16, slung over his back, smacked against him. He slid into another Black Hawk. The chopper was tipped on its side, and its belly was torn open like a split melon. Bard caught up, panting, and dropped the other three AT4s next to Shepherd.

Shepherd prepped the next rocket launcher, all the while watching the singed Black Hawk they’d just departed. Skulls poured over the location, clearly attracted by the launched rocket. They poured into the fuselage, shoving each other, struggling to be the first to investigate what had caused the loud noise. Shepherd waited with bated breath and prayed his plan would work.

An enormous explosion ripped through the hordes of Skulls, rewarding Shepherd’s planning and prayers. Limbs, spikes, and claws flew through the air in a flash of vicious red-and-orange fire. The broken Black Hawk split open further. Its metal panels bent and screeched.

“It worked, Commander! It fucking worked!” Bard yelled.

“Keep your goddamn voice down. It’s got to work at least twice more.”

Flipping up the sights on the AT4, Shepherd pushed the cocking lever forward, working quickly to lock onto the next Goliath. The monster was running toward the civilian shelter. A pack of Skulls followed it. The group was only a hundred yards from the building. Soldiers guarded the perimeter, but Shepherd wasn’t optimistic about their chances against the horde of Skulls.

Shepherd pressed down on the safety and then hit the fire button. The rocket flew from the tube with a roar. It whooshed past the Goliath and slammed into a smaller group of Skulls. The monsters were torn apart in the fiery blast, which knocked out at least two dozen of the creatures. Shepherd took no pride in ending their lives; it was the Goliath he was after. The giant was now only fifty yards from the gymnasium, and it was closing in fast.

“Commander, we got to move!” Bard said, prepping a detonator on the next block of C4.

Shepherd ignored him. He could see more of the smaller Skulls swarming toward him. They’d be on his position in seconds. But by that time, the Goliath would also be at the gymnasium. The commander readied the sights, pushed the cocking lever forward, and took aim again. One more shot—or else the civilians in the gymnasium would be good as dead. Depressing the fire button, Shepherd let the next rocket fly. The projectile exploded against the Goliath in a direct hit.

“Now we can move,” Shepherd said, taking the last AT4. He jumped from the cabin of the Black Hawk while Bard armed the detonator and dropped the C4.

There was one more relatively intact bird, and it would serve as their next shelter. Shepherd hoped he’d find Jackson there. If he wasn’t...

A couple of monsters with long, dagger-like claws and serrated spikes jutting from their joints came running at them, interrupting Shepherd’s worried thoughts. He dropped the AT4 and swung his M16 around. He let loose a spray of gunfire that spattered against the creatures. Enough rounds caught them to turn their heads into a pulpy mess. Their bodies slumped to the ground.

They made it the rest of the way to the next chopper. Before they could jump in, an enormous roar of heat and tearing metal sounded behind them. More Skulls shrieked and wailed. Their last hiding spot had been turned into a smoking pile of burned corpses by the C4 they’d planted. Shepherd could hardly believe his plan was working, but he wouldn’t mind if Lady Fortune continued to shine on him.

And shine she did. 

He leapt into the fuselage of the next Black Hawk. A man was lying next to an M240. Blood seeped from the wounds in his abdomen and, judging by his pale skin and unmoving limbs, he was dead. A soldier lay sprawled over a seat, his back facing up. Long gashes traced the length of his spine. Another soldier from the 82nd who’d died needlessly because of the unit’s stubborn decision to delay leaving the base. But beyond them, Shepherd found a third man, hands cuffed behind his back. He turned him over to see a familiar face: Jackson. The man’s chest still puffed up with slow, belabored breaths.

“Jackson, you hear me?” Shepherd asked. “We’re going to get you out of here. Bard, help me find something to uncuff him.”

The private searched one of the bodies, digging through the deceased soldier’s pockets and pouches. He pulled out a multitool and then knelt next to Jackson. With a twist of one of the multitool’s blades, the zip-ties came undone.

“Jackson, wake up. We got to get you out of here,” Shepherd said.

A deafening bellow caught his attention. He peered from the cracked-open side door. A Goliath sniffed the air, its undersized head swiveling atop its broad shoulders. Its claws shoveled through the smoking wreck of Shepherd’s last hiding spot. It dug through the corpses of Skulls, discarding them and growling. Smaller Skulls pounced around it, apparently intrigued by what the Goliath was searching for.

Shepherd pulled the safety pin from the last AT4. He readied the sights and nudged open the side door. The door squealed. It wasn’t earsplitting, but the Goliath’s head shot up and stared in Shepherd’s direction. He pushed the cocking lever forward and depressed the safety.

The Goliath charged. A tremendous roar escaped from its gray lips. The ground shook with each loping step it took. Despite every shot nerve in his body telling him to run, Shepherd didn’t even flinch.

“Commander?” Jackson’s voice came out in a whisper.

Shepherd didn’t have time to answer him. The Goliath threw its arms out and roared. Shepherd pressed down the safety and firing buttons. The rocket flew from the tube straight at the giant. At the last moment, the Goliath ducked, and the rocket shot past its shoulder harmlessly. The monster barreled forward. A wave of Skulls followed.

He’d missed.

Shepherd had missed, and now he was out of rockets and out of options. His heart dropped as he lifted Jackson to his feet. The man grunted in pain when Shepherd draped Jackson’s arm over his shoulder. There was nothing else they could do now but retreat.

“Run, Bard!” he yelled.

The private prepped an explosive and lugged it with all his might toward the Goliath. He jumped out of the Black Hawk, and Shepherd followed with Jackson. They staggered away from the charging monsters, with Jackson hobbling along as best he could.

A blast echoed over the tarmac, and heat rolled over them. A few Skulls cried out, but the Goliath was still standing. Adrenaline churned through Shepherd’s vessels, triggered by a primal instinct to live. But he knew it was over. The Goliath would soon be on them.

Shepherd hadn’t seen real combat in decades. Once, he’d thought working at the Army’s medical research facility would be an easy, safe post. He’d grown soft, and now he would pay the price. As Detrick fell, the men and women devoured by monsters or turned into monsters themselves, all Shepherd could think about was how very wrong he’d been.

-15-

––––––––

“Frank, any chance you can pick us up?” Dom asked, surveying the street in front of the hospital.

“I’m down to try, Captain,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the comm link. “But those goddamned things are everywhere, and the chopper’s damn noisy. If I land, they’ll be all over us.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Dom said, adjusting his grip on Connor. “Glenn, Terrence, let’s cover our exit with some smoke. Jenna, Miguel, pick off Skulls along the way. That should provide us enough cover to get to the T station, but we still need to do this quietly.”

Glenn and Terrence pulled smoke grenades from their tac vests.

“Frank,” Dom said. “You’re going to see smoke go out. When you do, perform a couple of flybys to get Skulls moving away from our position.”

“Will do, Captain. I’ll make enough racket to keep those monsters distracted.”

“Let’s do this.” Dom pointed to Jenna.

She nudged one of the glass doors open and held it. Terrence and Glenn tossed their smoke grenades. The canisters hissed. A small trail of gray smoke spurted out, followed by billowing gray plumes. The fog soon shrouded the street, obscuring the lampposts and abandoned vehicles—and most importantly, the Skulls still lurking outside.

“Thermal on,” Dom said. Clicks resonated as they pulled down their goggles and set them to thermal mode.

The world lit up in bright reds and oranges along with cool blues and greens through Dom’s enhanced vision. The goggles cut through the dense smokescreen. He could see the toppled military transport trucks and the bumper-to-bumper sedans, taxis, and vans that never had a chance to make it out of the city. Between these blue-and-green-silhouetted vehicles, the warmer red heat signatures gave away the Skulls’ positions.

The AW109 thundered overhead, making a sweep. A half dozen Skulls followed the fading sounds of the thumping rotors, clearing some of the deadly obstacles that lay between the group and the T station.

Three quick hand signals from Dom, and Jenna and Miguel were dashing out the door.

“Close your eyes and try to hold your breath, okay?” Dom said in a low voice to Connor.

The boy nodded, pinching his eyes shut and covering his mouth and nose with his T-shirt.

Dom barged out the door, with Glenn and Terrence bringing up the rear. Two Skulls cocked their heads, evidently hearing the approaching footsteps. Miguel and Jenna brought them both down with muffled gunfire. The bodies let out dull thunks when they hit the concrete. The smoke started to scratch at Dom’s eyes, but he pushed on through the dense fog. Miguel and Jenna continued to clear a swathe of the Skulls. The group made it past the loading zone of the hospital.

Dom directed Glenn and Terrence to toss their last smoke grenades. Glenn underhanded his, and it rolled under a taxi. Smoke spewed out from under the vehicle, swallowing the cab and concealing the street. Miguel lobbed his toward the sideways military transport truck. The grenade hit the hood of the truck. A hollow clunk echoed out, and several of the nearest Skulls ran to investigate.

One managed to push through the fog, frenzied by the noise. Glenn tried to pick the creature off, but his bullets careened into a nearby sedan. The creature was unwittingly headed straight at Dom. He tried to move slowly, careful not to let his footsteps give away his position. But stealth wouldn’t get him out of this Skull’s path. Its head whipped toward him, snarling, and it began to sprint in his direction. Dom couldn’t swing his rifle up without dropping the boy, so he pulled out his suppressed HK45C with one hand. His shots went wide, and the monster lunged.

Rolling to his side, careful to protect the boy, Dom dodged. He swept out a leg, tripping the Skull. The monster’s claws raked the air, blindly searching for a target. Dom leveled the pistol at the creature’s face. Gore sprayed from the exit wound, and the creature’s head rolled back against the asphalt. Dom fought to catch his breath and stood with the boy whimpering in his arms.

Glenn and Terrence caught up. They squeezed through the first line of cars, barely making it between a Honda Civic and a Ford Bronco close enough to kiss. Miguel and Jenna covered them from the other side of the vehicles, already in the middle of the street.

Beyond the next line of cars lay the station, but the military transport and cars in this lane had been part of an enormous pileup. Broken glass and plastic crunched under the Hunters’ boots despite their careful steps.

There was no choice but to go over the vehicles. Jenna climbed onto a crumpled Mazda. She offered a hand to Miguel. They crouched on the vehicle and picked off three Skulls. When they finished, Dom handed Connor to Jenna. She took the boy, and Miguel reached out with his prosthetic, clasping Dom’s hand and helping him up and over the vehicle. Glenn climbed over a rust-pocked Buick, and Terrence hoisted himself atop a Mercedes. But as Terrence heaved his weight on the roof of the car, the luxury sedan let out of a raucous alarm. Dom’s stomach sank. Bloodcurdling shrieks echoed from all around in response. The sound heralded the charge of a flurry of red shapes toward the car. Toward the Hunters.

“Shit!” Terrence yelled.

Dom was already sprinting toward the wide glass walls of the T station, trusting the others to follow.

“Frank, we need another flyby!” Dom yelled into the comm link.

“Doing the best I can, Captain,” the pilot responded.

The thwack of the chopper could barely be heard above the car alarm and the frenzied Skulls. Frank’s best efforts couldn’t keep the Skulls from the wailing car alarm. With the sheer number of Skulls pouring into the smokescreen, Dom knew it wouldn’t be long until the creatures accidentally stumbled upon the group. Connor started to cry, sobbing into Jenna’s shoulder. She tried to shush him, but the boy was too panicked to stop. A Skull barreled toward them, plunging through the smoke. Dom shouldered his rifle and squeezed the trigger. Bullets punched through the monster and sent it sprawling. Its bony appendages scraped across the concrete.

“Move!” Dom yelled to be heard over the din of monsters climbing over the vehicles and stampeding toward the car alarm. He reached the entrance to the T station and pulled hard on the handle. But the door didn’t budge. He tried another door with the same result.

Skulls started to pile up around the shrieking Mercedes. They pummeled the vehicle with their clawed hands, shattering the safety glass and gnawing on anything they could sink their teeth into.

With a grunt, Dom slammed the stock of his rifle into the glass door. Shards rained down and clattered on the sidewalk. Several of the Skulls heard the clinking glass and swiveled away from the jostling horde. Dom bashed the glass again to make the hole larger and then reached in to unlock the door. He pushed it open from the inside. Jenna ran through with Connor. Miguel and Glenn picked off the chasing Skulls, and Terrence bashed one creature’s face with the butt of his rifle. The impact cracked its jaw, and fragments of the protrusions along the sides of its face flew off. Its head reared back, and it let out an earsplitting howl, calling the other Skulls to hunt.

Squeezing his trigger, Terrence ended the Skull’s cry. But not before it had roused the attention of the others. Miguel, Glenn, and Terrence continued to fire on the swarm of Skulls, but there were far too many for the three Hunters to take down.

“Come on!” Dom yelled, still holding the door open. “Down the escalators. Follow the tunnel toward the Science Park!”

He let the door shut behind the group and then ran down the frozen escalators. A decayed body, still wearing a backpack, was draped over one of the handrails. It slid off when Glenn brushed past it. Miguel leapt past Jenna and Connor to take point. Dom brought up the rear. An enormous crash sounded when more glass gave way to the attacking Skulls. The monsters broke through another door, then another. A whole wall of glass shattered. Shards pinged off the tiles.

Dom waited for the others to make it down the first set of escalators and into another hall. “Frag out!” He pulled the safety pin on an M67 grenade and tossed the explosive to where the Skulls were piling in. An explosion rocked the T station’s lobby. The concussion knocked out more of the glass panes, and shrapnel flew, lancing through the Skulls’ bodies.

The agonized, frustrated shrieks of the injured monsters paled in comparison to the storm of hunting cries resounding from the mob outside. Dom’s boots pounded over the next set of escalators, and he followed the group already running on the platform between the tracks. He stole a quick glance at the map on his smartwatch.

“Take that one!” he yelled, pointing to the tunnel that led to the Science Park T station. Miguel leapt off the platform first and then turned to help Jenna and Terrence.

“My turn,” Glenn said, taking Connor from Jenna. She looked prepared to protest but instead let the hulking man take the small boy in his arms. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and they jogged on.

“Frank, we’re probably going to lose connection underground,” Dom said. The voices of the Skulls shrieked louder. Already the first dozen had made their way through the lobby and spilled down the escalator. “I need to know what the Science Park exit looks like.”

“You’ve got a pack of Skulls there but nothing like the swarm chasing you underground,” Frank said.

“Bravo, be ready to get us the fuck out of there,” Dom said.

“Roger that,” Renee’s voice called back over the comm link.

The clamor of the Skulls grew louder. There would be no way to take this entire swarm out with small arms fire. And Dom doubted they could outrun the bloodthirsty creatures. He paused near the entrance of the tunnel while the rest of his team moved onward.

Miguel paused. “Come on, Chief!”

“Go on!” Dom called. “I’m not letting these fuckers follow us!”

He took a block of C4 from his tac vest and prepared a detonator. Bringing down this end of the tunnel meant that there would be no turning back. Once he did this, they would need to fight off anything and everything on their way to the Science Park station, or else die in this dark hell beneath Boston. In any normal combat situation, before the outbreak of the Oni Agent, he wouldn’t have even considered blocking their path to retreat.

But it was better than the alternative. The beasts wouldn’t slow, even in the darkness. His Hunters were the best, but they didn’t have nearly enough ammunition to hold back the tide of monsters.

Dom set the fuse for fifteen seconds. He placed the C4 at the lip of the tunnel and then ran, never looking back.

The overwhelming concussive force hit him first, knocking him over. A heat wave followed. Everything went silent for a moment. Fragments of rock pelted his flesh and pinged off his helmet. Then his ears started to ring.

He stood, brushing the dust off. He switched his NVGs back to show the greens and blacks of his surroundings. A bright-green shape barreled toward him. He leveled his rifle at the shape and pulled the trigger. Four shots crashed into the monster: the first impaling its shoulder, then the second shattering its chest plate. The third shot drove itself through the creature’s abdomen, and the fourth caught it in the head, ending its existence. Its body slid across the tracks and came to a halt at Dom’s boots.

Playing his barrel around the darkness, Dom saw no other Skulls had made it past the pile of rubble now blocking the tunnel. Dust clouds still puffed from the pile and tickled Dom’s nose. He coughed, his throat coated by the grime. Something grabbed his shoulder, and he spun. He lifted his rifle, ready to take down another Skull.

“Chief, chief! You okay?” Miguel asked.

Dom lowered his weapon. “I’m good.”

Miguel glanced at the drifting dust. A small river of pebbles trickled from the ceiling. They clicked and bounced off the large rocks blocking the tunnel. “Guess that means we can’t go back, huh?”

“Only one way now.” Dom marched forward with Miguel by his side. “Forward.”

-16-

––––––––

Lauren approached Rich and Tammy Weaver, two of the three survivors from the hospital. They lay in neighboring beds with IV tubes leading into their dry, red skin. Sores riddled their arms, outward signs of their ill health and starvation. Tammy’s long dirty-blond hair appeared coarse and dry as straw. Wrinkles formed along the corners of Rich’s eyes. His cracked lips had stopped bleeding but still looked far from healthy. When Lauren reached their beds, they shifted their heads, no small effort in their malnourished states. Their gazes landed on her, and she smiled.

“They found your son,” she said.

Their skeletal faces lit up with pure joy and relief. Tears rolled from Tammy’s eyes—something that would have been impossible not long ago, in her severely dehydrated state.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

Rich’s bottom lip quivered. “I can’t begin...I don’t know...”

Lauren held up her hands. “Captain Holland’s team is headed toward their evac point. If all goes well, you’ll see your son within the hour.”

Rich reached out his right hand; his arm shook with the effort. Tammy interlaced her fingers with his, and Lauren left them to share this intimate moment. She was glad to have delivered some good news, but she reminded herself Connor wasn’t back yet and these people were still in critical condition. Hope might give them a reason to live, but it wouldn’t keep them alive—that was her job. Their EKGs maintained a stable rhythm, and all other vital signs pointed toward good health for now. Satisfied, she walked over to Alex Li, the third survivor they’d rescued. The man tried to smile, and his scruffy beard twitched with the movement. His dirty scrubs had been replaced with a clean patient gown.

“Doctor,” he said in a low, rasping voice. He extended a hand, and Lauren took it as delicately as she could. “I appreciate—” He coughed. “Thank you. Your team, those soldiers...without you all...” He closed his deep-brown eyes, his chest moving up and down with a deliberate, slow breath. His eyelids peeled back again. “I didn’t know there were people left in this world like you. The police, the Army—they abandoned Boston. Left us to die.”

Lauren patted Alex’s hand. “We’re here now. And there are still good people out there.” She thought of Shepherd at Detrick and his scientists waging their own form of war on the Oni Agent. General Kinsey, too, she knew had plans, though she couldn’t be sure what his long-term vision for this new America was. “Things will change. I promise.”

“I hope you’re right,” Alex said. “I’m done hiding. I’m done running from those creatures.”

“As long as you’re with us, you won’t have to.”

“Good. I want to help.”

Lauren had hoped the survivors would say that. The Huntress’s mission needed people like them. Those with medical backgrounds were vital to the development of a vaccine against the Oni Agent. Not to mention their skills and abilities would help when the team inevitably dealt with the casualties that came from this prolonged engagement with an enemy as ruthless and relentless as the Skulls.

“I’m sure we can find a place for you.” She thought of Kent Island, where they’d left Rachel Kaufman and the other midshipmen. The former Naval Academy cadets had been tasked with helping to defend the newly established civilian stronghold, a final bastion to protect those survivors who managed to escape the mainland around the Chesapeake Bay. “There’s certainly plenty of room here or at the safe haven we established nearby. Especially for a doctor.”

Alex’s left eyebrow twitched up. “Doctor? Did I manage to take four years of medical school while I was unconscious?”

“Oh, I saw you in scrubs when you got here and just assumed...”

“No worries. I was an attending nurse in surgery,” Alex said. “Think I’ll still be useful?”

Most definitely, Lauren thought. The unfortunate reality was that combat surgery had become more common on the ship than it ever had in their times of service before the outbreak. But all she said was, “We can probably find something.”

The comm pad near the medical bay’s entrance buzzed. Coming from the laboratory, Divya reached it first. “Lauren, Chao wants you in the workshop.” She gestured toward Peter, who was across the room looking at the patients’ charts. “We can take care of these three.”

“Thanks.” Lauren jogged out of the hatch and into the passageway. The buzz and crackle of radio chatter greeted her when she entered the electronics workshop. Chao was focused on his monitor. The blue glow washed over his face, and he appeared to be reading something, mouthing it aloud to himself. He didn’t notice her enter.

“Lauren!” Samantha said, standing from behind her desk. She waved a tattooed arm to beckon the doctor. “I’ve got something for you.”

Lauren strode across the room, and Samantha rotated one of her monitors. Adam joined them, adjusting his glasses and leaning over Samantha’s station.

“We’ve got all kinds of new therapeutic molecules and drugs from Mass Gen,” Samantha said. “I just uploaded everything onto the ship’s intranet. You and the rest of the team should be able to access it all.”

“Alpha team sent back loads of unpublished research, too,” Adam said. “There’s bound to be something useful for your medical staff.”

“Perfect,” Lauren said, optimism bubbling through her. They’d saved four people, counting Navid—maybe five if Dom brought Connor back. And now they might actually have a few promising leads on something that could prove to be useful against the prion component of the Oni Agent. “This will help tremendously. Did you pass the information along to Detrick?”

Chao turned from his monitor. His expression appeared grim. “I’m afraid there may not be anyone left to tell.”

***

Kara sat cross-legged on her berth with the computer resting in her lap. She leaned forward, squinting at the screen. The ship swayed slightly, but she never lost focus on the task at hand. Her body felt weak, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. With her mouse, she dragged another long spiral dangling from the model of the chemical structure on her screen. She watched the points add up. The FoldIt program reported a high score, and for a moment she wondered if that would translate to a successful vaccine.

She clicked a button labeled Simulate. The laptop wasn’t powerful enough to handle the entire molecular simulation, so it was run with the added power of the ship’s dedicated servers. A progress bar crept across the screen at a painfully slow rate. She glanced over at the neighboring berth. Sadie lay on her belly with Maggie sleeping at her side. But the girl wasn’t napping. She too had dedicated herself to FoldIt and was trying to bend the molecules Lauren had provided in an attempt to solve the game’s puzzle. 

“Any luck?” Kara asked.

It was the first time either of the girls had spoken in, maybe, a couple of hours. The dog groaned, stretching out her front paws, and Sadie followed suit, stretching her balled fists into the air.

“The simulation said I got a sixty-five. Is that good?”

Kara shrugged. “I think so, but...”

“But we need one hundred, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” Kara said. “Then again, maybe the molecules Lauren gave us aren’t good enough to be part of the cure.”

“Why would Lauren do that?”

“She wouldn’t do it on purpose,” Kara said. “But there are so many different ones to test, and if scientists knew which one would work, then we wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Oh,” Sadie said, frowning. She didn’t appear convinced. A ping sounded from both of their laptops. “Look!”

Kara read the brief message that flashed across her screen. The gray box reported more files had been uploaded to the ship’s intranet. She clicked through one of the folders, and her eyes went wide. There were dozens of different molecules. She and Sadie had each chosen one molecule to test from the list Lauren had originally given them. They’d already spent hours working on their selections.

“Kara, does this mean we have to test all of these?”

“I guess so.”

Maggie slunk from Sadie’s berth and propped her head on Kara’s. Her tail waved like a fan, and her slobbery tongue slurped over Kara’s hand. Kara scratched the dog between her ears.

“Okay,” Sadie said. “Then I guess we better get to work, huh?”

“That’s right.” Kara focused on her screen and loaded one of the new molecules. A dialogue box popped up claiming the molecule was an experimental therapeutic developed in one of the labs at the Massachusetts General Hospital.

There was a long pause, and then Sadie said, “If we find the right one, does that mean we can save Mom?”

Kara gulped, knowing their mother was probably all Skull now. Nothing would be left of the woman who used to tuck them in at night or take Kara to Tae Kwon Do lessons and Sadie to ballet classes. Nothing they did now could help her. But she didn’t dare shatter her sister’s hope. At least not yet.

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe we can help Mom.”

-17-

––––––––

Shepherd’s radio barked to life. Frantic chatter broke amid the static. He couldn’t make out the words against the Skulls’ cries. And he was resigned to the fact that it didn’t much matter what happened. He’d failed himself. He’d failed the men and women who served him. He’d failed the goddamned human race, letting this base fall, letting the hopes of developing a vaccine against the Oni Agent spill from between his fingers like so many grains of sand.

A distant, low roar began to displace the Skulls’ voices. What the hell?

The Goliath continued toward him, bounding over the fuselage of a Black Hawk. But several of the smaller Skulls paused, their faces turned up to the sky. A loud, screaming whistle tore through the din. Even the Goliath stopped. Its monstrous face appeared confused for a split second before its body tore apart in a burst of fire and flesh. The explosion sent the smaller Skulls around it flying, lifeless before their bodies hit the ground. Shepherd’s heart leapt, and Bard let out a whoop. 

“Commander?” Jackson managed, craning his neck toward the stars.

Shepherd’s gaze followed, and he slowly shook his head. “You fucking bastard, Kinsey. You fucking bastard.”

Three AH-64 Apache attacker helicopters whooshed overhead. They spit Hellfire rockets into the Skulls. Blast after blast sent the monsters’ bony appendages into the air. The Skulls shrieked, confused by the sensory overload. Shepherd took advantage of the chaos and began picking off the closest Skulls still standing. Bard was quick to follow his commander’s lead.

More Apaches followed the first trio. The choppers hunted down the main waves of Skulls. The creatures’ bodies continued to fly into the air like rag dolls. Two Apaches hovered near the breached walls. Hellfire missiles flew from under the stub wings. A whine like a saw blade sounded as their chain guns spewed 30mm rounds into the Skulls.

The creatures didn’t stand a chance.

Shepherd lowered his M16. There were no more Skulls nearby to shoot, and the choppers were making short work of the monsters elsewhere. He watched his men and women come out of their hiding spots. Relief filled him as the living took back their base.

“Command, this is Shepherd,” he said into his radio. “Looks like our guard’s being relieved. Muster all remaining units to their respective stations at the NEC or the shelter.”

“Roger, Shepherd. And so glad to hear your voice, sir,” Lieutenant Ramos said.

Shepherd and Bard helped Jackson limp to the NEC. The Apaches continued to zigzag over the base. Another wave of choppers flew overhead. This time, Black Hawks and Chinooks zoomed in and started landing.

“Sir, I thought we weren’t getting reinforcements,” Bard said.

“That makes two of us, Private.”

Once they reached the command center, medics set to work patching Jackson’s wounds. Shepherd grabbed Bard’s hand and clasped it in a stiff handshake. “Thank you.” He wanted to say more, wanted to acknowledge Bard’s courage and mourn the loss of Wesson. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t say more without acknowledging everything and everyone they’d lost this night. He had to carry that weight alone for the sake of everyone under his command.

“Thank you,” he said again and let Bard’s hand go.

“Yes, sir.” Bard saluted. “Anytime you need me to kick some bony ass, I’ll do it, sir.”

“I have no doubt you will. You’ve done an enormous service.” He made himself appear stolid. “And we will not soon forget Wesson’s sacrifice.”

Bard seemed to stand a bit straighter. “No, sir. We will not.”

Shepherd made his way through halls bustling with activity. The injured let out pained moans as all those who’d been lucky enough to avoid becoming a casualty now attended to the victims of the Skulls. He skirted between the wounded and those helping them on his way to the command center.

As he burst into the room, Lieutenant Ramos shot him a worried look. But she said nothing. Six unfamiliar men in fatigues with MP armbands stepped toward him.

“Commander Shepherd?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Come with us. Kinsey’s orders.”

Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. “Your people took their sweet-ass time helping us. I’m going to make sure my men and women are safe. You got a problem with that, you can wait.”

The man took another step forward and pointed an M9 Beretta at Shepherd. Lieutenant Ramos rose from her seat and reached toward her side holster. Shepherd shook his head. He didn’t need more deaths on his account tonight.

“What the hell is this about?” Shepherd asked. “My people need me.”

The man jabbed the handgun into Shepherd’s chest. Two of the flanking military police grabbed his arms. They forced his hands behind his back and cuffed him.

The leader met Shepherd’s furious gaze with a cold stare. “You will be coming with us. Now move.”

***

Meredith used her binos to survey the Charles River Dam. She could make out one of the massive halls of the Museum of Science, topped with a tower and spire. A white dome sprouted from a lower roof. Trees lined the complex—and Skulls lumbered along the bulwarks.

“Looks like we’ve got maybe a couple dozen on the bridge alone,” she said.

“Got it,” Renee said. “Andris?”

“Maybe thirty near the Science Park T station.”

“Alpha’s going to be encumbered by the kid,” Spencer said. “We need to make sure there aren’t too many Skulls up there for them to handle.”

“You got that right,” Renee said. “If there are, we need to clear a path.” She spoke into her comm link. “Frank, what’s the Science Station look like to you?”

“Most of it’s covered by trees. Hard for me to see from up here.”

“Damn,” Renee said, tapping on her smartwatch. “We need to check this out ourselves. Frank, any chance you can pick them up near the station’s exit?”

“LZ’s probably too hot for me do it safely. The bridge is a little better, but as soon as I get close, those fuckers are going to be on me like Spencer at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. Over.”

“Thanks for that,” Spencer muttered.

Renee showed Bravo a map of the Charles River and the surrounding areas of Boston on her smartwatch. She pointed toward the winding blue snake across the watch’s face. “With the dam and the complex above us, there’s not much we can do to get a better sightline from here.”

“Then maybe it’s time we get off the Zodiac,” Meredith said.

Renee was silent for a moment, apparently considering the suggestion.

“Do we really want to be risking our asses up there?” Spencer said.

“And what?” Andris asked. “We stay here and let Dom, Alpha, and the kid get blindsided by the Skulls?”

Spencer glared. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He pointed toward the tall redbrick walls of the museum and the bridge. “We go up there and get ourselves killed, what the fuck happens to the Zodiac? How is Alpha going to escape then?”

“Spencer’s right,” Renee said. 

Meredith opened her mouth, ready to protest. There was no way she’d let Dom escape from one swarm of Skulls only to head straight into another horde of the monsters.

But Renee cut her off before she could say anything. “We can’t all abandon the Zodiac, and it’d be suicide to try and scout out that bridge at ground level. Meredith, Andris, you two will scale the museum. Avoid hostiles if at all possible. Keep a low profile, and tell us what you see up there.”

“Happy to do it,” Meredith said.

“You got it,” Andris said, already packing his sniper rifle. “I could go for a little exercise.”

“You heard ‘em, Spence.” Renee pointed toward a set of stainless-steel stairs leading from the bridge down to a platform along the water. “Take us in. But don’t get too close. Seems like the buffets here are all closed anyway.”

“You, too?” Spencer rolled his eyes and then throttled the motor, careful to keep it at a low burble. 

Meredith situated herself at the prow. The spray of choppy waves kicked up in her face, but she kept her gaze straight ahead. The Zodiac slowed when they neared the small platform. She hopped off the craft and held out a hand to help Andris.

“Godspeed and good luck,” Renee said in a low voice.

Meredith and Andris made their way up the stairs. Her gloved fingers tightened around her SCAR-H, ready at any moment to take on one of the monstrosities lurking above them. She chose each step carefully, determined to avoid attracting any undue attention because of a groaning stair. They made it to a sidewalk that encircled the museum. Above, a brick wall stretched up several stories. Atop it, the huge white dome of the planetarium seemed to rise like a hot air balloon. Meredith and Andris scanned the back of the museum. A few trees sprouted up around it, but there would be no easy way up to the roof from here.  

“The front,” Meredith whispered. She checked her smartwatch and zoomed in on a satellite image of the museum before the outbreak. A few trees appeared to reach toward a lower roof above a loading bay. That secondary roof seemed to provide an access point to a bank of windows on an upper floor of the museum. It was as good a place as they would find to scout the area.

They sprinted toward the north side of the building. She stopped at the corner, and Andris joined her. She held out two fingers to gesture to her eyes, then around the corner. Andris nodded and shouldered his rifle. Staying low, Meredith maneuvered around the wall. She snuck behind a line of evergreen bushes until she reached the next corner. Peering from above the foliage, she surveyed the scene.

All along the street running parallel to the museum, delivery trucks, passenger cars, and SUVs were frozen, a snapshot of rush-hour traffic that would never move again. The horned heads of Skulls lurked between the vehicles. The skeletal plates protruding from their shoulder blades were silhouetted against the night sky like the fins of sharks. At the north end of the dam, a line of armored personnel carriers and two tanks sat vacant and unmoving. Meredith noticed a crater in the street not far from the military vehicles along with the charred-out husks of a few civilian vehicles. A sideways semi obscured her view of the south end.

She remained motionless for almost a minute, waiting to see if any of the Skulls had noticed her. At last she waved for Andris to join her. He sprinted, staying low and quiet.

After stealing a glance at the street, he ducked back behind the bushes. “Seems there are plenty of the ugly bastards here, huh?”

Meredith managed a nod and then pointed toward their next goal. A double-decker bus sat near the unloading zone of the museum. Advertisements emblazoned its side, promising a chance to see all the city’s sights.

“Not much I want to see in Boston anymore,” Andris said.

“There’s one more sight I want to see, and it’s up on that roof. C’mon.”

“You got a thing for buses, huh?” Andris said.

Meredith recalled her narrow escape from the Skulls back in Frederick, a story Andris had no doubt heard a number of times. A school bus had served her well then, but she had no intentions of going for a drive now. “Cover me.”

She sprinted along the side of the building, sticking close to the wall and staying low behind the bushes. When she reached the edge of the loading zone, there was nothing but a couple of concrete pillars, a few taxis, and a white-paneled van to hide behind. She flitted between the vehicles toward the tourist bus. Still, no Skull shrieks called into the night.

Thank God for the cover of darkness, she thought.

She said another prayer of gratitude when she found the doors of the tourist bus cranked wide open. She looked back toward where Andris waited. She couldn’t do much to cover him from the ground, but on the upper deck the seats were exposed to the open air with no roof or windows to obstruct tourists’ views of the cities.

“I’m going up top,” Meredith spoke low into her comm link. “Sit tight.”

“Copy,” Andris replied.

She hopped up the steps to the bus and played her rifle over the seats. A sour, rank smell assaulted her nostrils. Remnants of blood-soaked cloth lined the floor. A set of bones littered one of the seats. Long gashes in the vinyl revealed the stuffing in another. Her boots landed on spent bullet casings. Continuing along the aisle, she stepped over a corpse. Half the torso was chewed up, rendered nothing more than red pulp. Strange, bony growths jutted out from the masticated meat. The goddamned Oni Agent never stopped, not even when its host was deceased. She tried not to gag on her way to the spiral staircase leading to the upper deck.

Meredith took each step slowly. A cool wind whistled through the bus, providing a short respite from the putrid air. Her boot hit the next step, and the stair groaned underneath her weight. She froze. A shiver snuck down her spine. She stared up through the stairwell at the night sky. So close. She dared not to press her luck.

A face appeared. There was no mistaking the horns lining its head or the pronounced, pointed cheekbones. Its mouth opened as it prepared to let loose a howl that would call all nearby Skulls to Meredith’s position. She couldn’t let that happen. She lunged up the steps and sent a powerful uppercut into the creature’s jaw. Her knuckles screamed in agony at the impact, but she quickly clamped her fingers over the creature’s snapping mouth to keep its lips shut. The monster flailed against her grip. It raked the air with its claws. But this one was only four feet tall. She tried to ignore the fact that it had, at some point, been a child. The thing struggled and smacked at her, desperate to save its own life and end hers. She kept the Skull at arm’s length then twisted its neck hard until she heard a resounding snap. 

Its limbs went still, and she lowered its body gently to the floor. More gnawed bones lay on the second deck among discarded backpacks. A few empty plastic water bottles sat between crumpled paper sacks. She spotted movement near the rear of the deck. Hitting the floor, she crept toward it, staying low. She could make out a pair of shoes moving about under the seat. Her heart jumped at the sight of them. Each time they moved, the little red lights on the soles flashed.

God, no, she thought. Not another kid.

The shoes flashed again, and the body they belonged to came into view. A pit formed in Meredith’s stomach. Bloodshot eyes stared at her as the Skull stood upright in the middle of the aisle. Spikes pierced the dirty T-shirt with a green cartoon character it wore, making it look like some twisted porcupine. Its nose crinkled into a snarl, and its cracked lips drew back.

Meredith squeezed the trigger of her rifle twice. The suppressed shots plunged through the creature’s face before it had a chance to make a sound. She felt sick to her stomach when the body dropped to the floor and lay still. She reminded herself it was no longer human. It was a monster. A bloodthirsty monster that would’ve killed her.

She kept her eyes on the creature as she made her way toward the rear of the bus. Shouldering her rifle, she slowly peeked over the small safety rail lining the open-air deck. The spot provided her a perfect view of the bushes along the side of the museum.

“Clear,” Meredith said, watching the Skulls nearest to Andris through her scope. She kept her sights on him as he skirted the building. He stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings behind a taxi and then sprinted the rest of the way to the bus. A Skull turned to look at him, attracted by the movement. Meredith brought it down with three quiet shots. Another Skull turned to investigate the thud its dead brother made when it hit the ground. But the creature didn’t give the fresh corpse a second glance and soon moved on.

Renee’s voice crackled over the comm link. “Meredith, Andris. Where are you?”

“We’re on a bus, about ready to start climbing up,” Meredith reported.

“We don’t have much time. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before Alpha reaches the Science Park station.”

“Copy,” Meredith said. She leapt from the second deck of the bus to the roof of the loading dock. She kept her legs limber and rolled when she hit it. Andris followed quickly after. They both gazed up at the top of the museum.

“There’s no way we can climb that from the outside and reach the top in time,” Andris said. “Too slow.”

“Agreed.” Meredith trudged across the flat roof toward one of the windows in the central tower. An enormous atrium lay beyond the glass. She could see a replica of the Apollo capsule on the ground floor. Satellites were suspended from the ceiling. A large Tyrannosaurus rex was barely visible within one of the display rooms connected to this wing of the museum.

“Ah, fuck,” Andris muttered. He glanced up at the exterior of the tower then back inside. “I suppose we don’t have a choice though, do we?”

“No,” Meredith said, pointing toward a stairwell on the far side of the atrium. She matched it up to a map of the museum on her smartwatch. “That’s the quickest way up.”

“Then I guess we got to do it.”

Meredith nodded, understanding Andris’s hesitation completely. All along the ground floor of the museum, between the glass display cases, dozens of Skulls meandered, sniffing the air, their eyes darting about the expansive room. She reconsidered whether they needed to go through here or not.

But then she thought of Dom. If she and Andris failed, if they did nothing to help the team, they might as well condemn Dom and the rest of Alpha to death. She took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

-18-

––––––––

Dom’s lungs burned. He was quickly using up his last energy reserves running through these tunnels. The route from the Charles/MGH station to the Science Park was more of a loop than a straight shot, which made their trip that much longer. But Dom didn’t mind a long run if it kept his team and Connor hidden from the Skulls. They rounded a long bend in the tracks.

“Whoa, slow up!” Dom called.

Ahead, a train had evidently derailed. Dom guessed it had been coming around the curve too fast. Piles of stone and rubble lined the tracks where it had ground into the walls during the crash.

“The goddamned thing is blocking the way!” Terrence said.

“I want all eyes open,” Dom said. “Looks like we’ve got to go through.”

“I hate public transit,” Jenna said in a meager attempt to break the tension.

Miguel strode beside her. His rifle was pointed at a gaping door in the lead train car. “If that train crashed, I just want to know where all the people are.”

“I’d be careful what you wish for.” Glenn, following Miguel, was taking his turn carrying Connor. “Keep your eyes closed,” Glenn whispered to the boy. 

“But the Captain said—”

“Don’t you worry about the Captain,” Glenn replied.

The boy whimpered and followed the instructions, nestling his face into the crook of Glenn’s neck.

The group climbed through the open emergency exit. The entire car was shifted at an almost forty-five-degree angle, making it hard for them to keep their balance.

Dom surveyed the train car with his rifle at the ready. Blood stained the fabric benches along the sides of the cars. Scattered remnants of clothes, purses, and backpacks lay strewn about. A draft breezed in through the broken windows. It fluttered the crumpled papers littering the car. Glass crunched underfoot as Miguel led the group forward. A relentless odor hung in the air, somewhere between mustiness and death.

“All right,” Jenna said, “I’m with Miguel. I really want to know where all the people went.”

Dom grabbed a pole stretching from the ceiling to the tilted floor. He used it to steady himself and stepped over a pile of refuse cluttered around one of the car’s automated sliding doors. He wanted to know the answer to that question as much as the others, but he feared they’d find out soon enough. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

The group continued through the train car. Jenna reached the doors between the first car and the second. Blood streaks obscured their view into the next car. Exhaling audibly, Jenna wiped the dried blood with one of her gloved hands and then peered through.

“Don’t see anyone in there,” she reported.

Miguel sidled up next to her, and they dug their fingers into the rubber seal between the doors. Grunting, they peeled the door back. It squealed in protest but eventually gave way. The Hunters shouldered their weapons, waiting to see if the noise would draw any waiting monsters. Anticipation coursed through Dom, setting his nerves afire with electricity.

When nothing reared its head and howled at them, Dom stepped forward.

They wound their way between the benches and seats of the second car. It had fared the apocalypse no better than the first. Evidence of a struggle was everywhere. Long scratches dug into the plastic and fabric seats and benches. More dried splatters and stains. This time, Dom spotted scattered bones throughout the car. Teeth marks notched their surfaces; most were split open, the marrow sucked dry. Strings of flesh hung off what once used to be a ribcage.

Dom shuddered, wondering if that was what would’ve become of his team if they’d waited a moment longer back at the last T station. They pushed past the debris toward the third car. Again, they pried the doors open. The third and fourth cars were no different than the first, filled with little tokens proving humanity had once been here but had lost its fight to survive.

Jenna approached the last set of doors. Some dark liquid covered the glass, but this time it was from the other side. There was no way to see into the last car. “Captain?”

“Let me see,” Dom said, moving past Miguel and Jenna. He pressed an ear against the cool glass, and his stomach twisted into a painful knot. He recognized the grunts, the raspy breathing, and clicking of claws against metal. “Skulls.”

“Double back and try another way outside?” Miguel asked.

“Don’t think that’ll work,” Terrence said, peering out a window of the car. “Looks like the tunnel’s completely blocked.”

Dom nodded and adjusted his grip on his rifle. “From what I saw, he’s right. We’ve got to go through.” He reached into one of his tac vest pockets for a block of plastic explosive. He molded a small piece of C4. “I don’t want anyone to manually open these doors. We have no idea how many creatures are behind them, and the last thing I want is for someone to be snagged before we can open fire.” Pressing the C4 into place, he pointed at Glenn and Connor. “Glenn, take the boy to a safe distance and set him down. We’re going to need all guns hot for this one. Everyone, take firing positions in the next car over. I want to get some distance between us and the Skulls.”

He waited for them to retreat to the third car, far out of the blast range. After setting the detonator, Dom sprinted after his team. He knelt next to Miguel and shouldered his SCAR-H.

The C4 exploded. Despite the relatively small charge, the blast resonated in the cramped cars. Dom didn’t let his ringing ears distract him from keeping his barrel aimed at the door to the fifth car. A cloud of smoke and dust plumed from the busted doors. Nothing moved for a moment.

The stillness was broken when a Skull pounced from the smoke cloud. Its eyes locked immediately on Dom and Miguel. Its ropy muscles coiled underneath bony plates, and it started to charge.

Both Miguel and Dom’s rifles chattered, taking the beast down with ease. But as the dust settled, more bloodshot eyes and gaunt, skeletal faces appeared. The creatures shoved each other, jostling to get through. They clogged the entrance to the fifth car with their selfish hunger, trying to be the first to sink their teeth into fresh prey.

Skull after Skull fell to the bullets spewing from Alpha team. Several creatures managed to slink through the carnage and tried their luck at navigating the fourth car. The Hunters’ persistent salvos kept them at bay. Bone-riddled corpses piled up along the third car. Blood sloshed on the floor and splashed against the seats. Bullet casings pinged from the Hunters’ rifles and bounced off the metal walls.

Dom kept his jaw clenched and his eyes down the sights. Each Skull that they brought down bolstered his confidence. They could do this. They could take these monsters out in no time. Another three Skulls pushed past their dead brethren and charged down the aisle of the fourth car. But while the Hunters concentrated their fire on those three, another monster had slipped through unnoticed.

It reared back now. Cracks sizzled in its chest, and dark liquid drizzled out of tears in its throat. Its lower jaw was completely gone. Nothing but a rattling hole under a few rotten teeth remained. Dom recognized what that meant immediately. “Drooler!”

A geyser of dark liquid shot from the creature’s mouth. Dom and Miguel ducked. The spray shot above where their heads had been a moment ago. The liquid splashed against a car window, and droplets bounced off, landing on Dom’s fatigues. The fabric sizzled as the acid ate through it.

With the Hunters taken off guard, the Drooler leapt toward the third car. It clung to the open doors, its beady pupils darting between the Hunters. Then its bloodshot eyes went wide and locked on Connor’s huddled form.

Dom readjusted his aim and squeezed off a burst of fire. The bullets slammed into the creature, but the Drooler’s spray had already started. Another shot of acid careened across the car, headed straight toward Connor.

“No!” Terrence yelled, jumping between the spray and the boy. He picked up the child, turning his back to the acid and trying to leap out of the way. But the spray hit his back. He screamed and thrashed.

Jenna took her water bottle out and splashed it over Terrence. Dom could hear the sizzle of the Hunter’s flesh. He couldn’t stand to see one of his men in so much pain. He shoved the Drooler’s corpse back into the fourth car and fired on the horde of agitated Skulls. Hot rounds cut into skeletal plates; demonic shrieks filled the car. Terrence’s agonized yells echoed through the din. One of the Skulls shot forward, making it past the wall of gunfire. It smashed into Dom’s rifle and knocked the weapon from his hand. Dom grabbed the creature’s wrists to stop the slashing claws from reaching his flesh. Spittle flew from between the monster’s fanged teeth.

Dom let out a primal yell and slammed the creature into a window. Its head broke through the glass. He kicked the beast’s chest. The shards of glass gave way to the monster’s bony armor. In one fluid motion, Dom retrieved his knife from his thigh sheath and brought it up. The blade arced through the air, slicing down toward the monster’s fleshy neck. But a kick from the Skull snapped Dom’s wrist back. The knife flew from his grip, and the Skull lunged. One of its claws lashed out. The bony talons cut into Dom’s tac vest, but the armor plates in his vest kept the claws from going deeper. The Skull head-butted Dom’s abdomen and made him double over. It leapt onto Dom, and its head shot down, its mouth open to grab a chunk of his neck.

But Dom used the creature’s own tactics against it. He shot up, and his helmet slammed against the creature’s jaw. Its teeth cracked. The monster stumbled backward. Dom scooped up his knife and then plunged it through one of the thing’s eyes. It burst, but still he drove the blade deeper until at last it stopped struggling. Dom retrieved his rifle and played it over another Skull going after Miguel. The Hunter twisted his prosthetic, revealing the hidden knife, and stabbed it through the Skull’s nasal cavity with a sickening crunch. Miguel pulled back, wiped his blade off on a nearby seat, and retracted the knife. The Skull’s body slumped, crashing against another corpse.

Everything was quiet. No more demonic cries, no more gunfire. The battle was over. Dom panted, catching his breath, and surveyed the others, their faces and fatigues covered by blood and gore.

“The boy?” Dom managed between gasps, looking at Jenna.

“He’s okay,” Jenna said. “At least physically.”

Terrence stood next to her. His face was pinched and contorted in pain. Glenn gave him an emergency shot of painkillers. He poured the contents of his water bottle over the acid burns and applied a cooling antiseptic gel.

“You okay, brother?” Dom asked.

Terrence managed to nod. “I’ll...I’ll get through it.”

“Everybody else ready to get moving?”

The others nodded. Dom looked through to the fifth car. The broken bodies of Skulls covered the floor and were draped over the seats. “Then let’s get going. We don’t have time to waste.”

He kicked the corpses out of the way to clear a path for the others. Once he reached the rear doors of the fifth car, he was met with the same dark goo that had covered the first set. He didn’t dare touch it. Judging by its consistency, the liquid was more of the acidic bile the Droolers spit.

Reaching behind his pack, he took out a spare water bottle and washed the acid away. The clean spot let him see through the window and beyond the fifth car. The sight sent a wave of relief through him.

There was just a dark, empty tunnel. And unless he was mistaken, Dom thought there just might be a light at the end of it.

-19-

––––––––

Kent Island, Maryland

Stars sparkled in the almost cloudless sky. They were brighter than Midshipman Rachel Kaufman had ever seen. The outbreak had ruined civilization as she knew it, taking with it the light pollution that had once prevented such a brilliant view.

But the beauty of the galaxy was hardly at the forefront of her mind.

She climbed over a wall of sandbags and past a line of empty cars. Moonlight streamed over the bridge. The pavement was littered with the bodies of Skulls, broken and surrounded by pools of fresh blood. The corpses were the aftermath of yet another battle she and Kent Island’s Defensive Forces had won. The KIDF had originally been organized by a police sergeant during the early days of the Oni Agent outbreak. Sergeant Joseph Reinhart’s quick thinking had preserved Kent Island’s safety along with thousands of people living on Maryland’s largest island.

Only the US 50 bridge led to the island. With the western side already blown out by an air force strike, the KIDF had set up a defensive wall and rotating watches to patrol the east side. But each battle against the Skulls left piles of bodies. If they allowed them to continue stacking up, then the creatures could more easily climb over the defensive barriers.

Rachel had barely survived the Naval Academy when she had led her fellow midshipmen in the defense of civilians sheltering there. Since then, she’d served multiple shifts at the defensive wall here with other KIDF members. She’d brought down her fair share of Skulls. But her least favorite part of surviving the apocalypse was the cleanup.

“Help me with this one,” she said to Rory Booker, another midshipman from the Academy.

The first-year scuttled over. His boyish face turned a pale shade of green. “They smell awful.”

“Then hold your breath,” Rachel said as she wrapped her gloved fingers around the wrist of a Skull.

Rory lifted its ankles, and they dragged the creature to a pickup and hoisted it into the truck’s bed. Other KIDF members loaded up more corpses until the bed was full. The truck drove its load to the dump point. The process would repeat itself all night until the bodies were all piled together at the far end of the bridge. There, a few KIDF members would set the corpses on fire and let the flames devour the Oni Agent-riddled bodies.

“Why can’t we just toss ‘em over the side?” Rory asked.

“Are you kidding? This close to the island?” Rachel huffed. “That’s the last thing we need. Some little kid on a beach scratches himself on one and turns into a Skull. Yeah, that’d be great.”

Rachel and Rory hefted another body into the idling truck. After they threw the body in, Rory wiped a streak of sweat from his forehead. “I’d rather be shooting them than carrying them.”

“You got that right.” Rachel adjusted the strap on her MP5 and slung it around her back again. She hadn’t let the weapon out of her sight since the Naval Academy. It had served her well, and she was proud to defend the survivors on Kent Island with it. But she wondered how long the island really could hold out against the Skull attacks. This had been the third swarm since she’d arrived here.

She rested for a second near another corpse and shone her flashlight beam on the monster’s face. The creature’s mouth hung open, revealing its jagged teeth and gray tongue. Its eyes were mottled with crimson. A couple of ragged strips of fabric stuck to the armor plates and spikes poking out from its joints. There was no way to tell who this Skull had been in its prior life. She couldn’t even tell if it was a man or woman.

“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” she asked, carefully positioning her grip around the Skull’s thin, bony wrists.

“What?”

“Just...this could have been us. We could have turned, and no one would have recognized us.”

“I doubt there’s anyone left to recognize us.” Rory tightened his fingers around the Skull’s ankles and stood. “My parents are probably gone. The only friends I had were at the Academy and...”

“Yeah, sorry,” Rachel said. “This all just sucks. Just really fucking sucks.”

Rory forced a laugh. “Fuck these Skulls.”

They heaved the body onto the waiting pickup and walked back to grab another body. This one still wore the utility belt of a police officer.

“Score,” Rachel said, kneeling next to the body. She pulled the 9mm handgun from the officer’s holster and slid it into her waistband.

“God, we could’ve used another one of those.”

“The pistol?” Rachel asked.

“No.” Rory shook his head. “A police officer. Someone who could help defend this damn place.”

Rachel was about to agree when the distant sound of helicopter blades interrupted her. She squinted into the darkness, trying to see where the chopper was coming from.

“You think that’s the Hunters?” Rory asked.

“I thought they were headed to Boston,” Rachel said. “Wouldn’t be back so soon, would they?”

The thump of the blades drew nearer. There wasn’t just one chopper. The silhouettes of several approaching aircraft were barely visible against the starlit sky.

Rory dropped the legs of the Skull. “Whoa, you think we’re actually getting some kind of reinforcements?”

“Don’t know,” Rachel said, letting go of the Skull’s wrists. “Maybe they’re coming for us. General Kinsey ordered a tactical retreat to DC and the Pentagon. Captain Holland told me before he headed out.”

“Shit. I hope they don’t think we’re deserters.”

Spotlights burst from the helicopters, waving around the ramp leading from the bridge to Kent Island. The lights settled on an open parking lot belonging to a kitschy tourist motel that had been turned into a shelter. People swarmed under the lights, looking up at the choppers.

The aircraft descended, and the people in the parking lot ran back to the sidewalk. Rachel counted four Black Hawks and two Apache escorts.

“Looks like the Army,” she said.

“Should we check it out?” Rory asked hesitantly.

Rachel understood his reluctance. If the Army decided to treat them as deserters, she figured getting court-martialed during the apocalypse wouldn’t end well for either of them. But then again, where the hell was she going to hide from them on an island? There was only so long they could play hide-and-seek.

She cursed inwardly. Maybe they should have played it smart when they first arrived on the island. They could have pretended to be civilians like everyone else. But it was too late for “what ifs.” And besides, she could never live with herself knowing she took the coward’s way out of anything.

“Let’s go see what they want.” Rachel marched down the ramp; Rory followed at her heels.

When they reached the street, they walked straight between the bare-branched trees toward the parking lot with the now-idling choppers. A pair of high-intensity beams swiveled directly at them, blinding her. She shielded her eyes with her hand.

“State your name!” a loud voice bellowed.

“Midshipman First Class Rachel Kaufman,” she said.

“Midshipman First Class Rory Booker.” Rory’s voice cracked when he said it.

“From the Naval Academy?”

“Yes, sir!” they both replied.

Rachel tried to peer between her fingers, but the light still shone in her face. She took a step forward. The sound of firearms being adjusted and aimed met her ears.

“Stay right there. Drop your weapons.”

Rachel unslung her MP5 and placed it on the ground. She pulled out the 9mm she’d scavenged and dropped it next to the submachine gun. Rory laid his rifle next to her weapons. She could hear his heavy breathing, and her own heart hammered.

Before she could ask any questions, the heavy thud of boots against asphalt sounded all around her. Hands grabbed her roughly and pulled her arms behind her back. Cold metal cuffs clicked around her wrists, and a black sack was thrown over her head. Muffled, urgent voices called from all directions as she was shoved forward.

Someone yanked her aboard one of the waiting choppers and pushed her into a seat. She felt someone else fall into the seat next to her.

“Rory?” she whispered.

“Quiet!” another voice boomed.

Her wrists burned against the tight cuffs. She strained to adjust her aching limbs while someone tightened a safety harness around her. She waited like that for maybe sixty minutes. Others were secured into the neighboring seats, but Rachel didn’t dare ask any more questions. She bided her time, listening and waiting, and tried not to think about the fate that awaited them all at the end of this journey.

-20-

––––––––

Meredith crept through the open window and lowered herself to the marble floor of the museum. She crouched behind a display case with oversized models of viruses and bacterium and idly wondered if any of them looked like the Oni Agent. It was amazing—and terrifying—that something so small could have the power to destroy the world as they knew it.

Andris slunk through next and joined her. “We need to get through that, huh?”

He nodded to indicate the Skulls prowling the catwalks and balconies of the museum. All floors overlooked the central atrium. Low glass walls and metal handrails lined each level to prevent visitors from falling. Meredith glanced at her smartwatch’s map and pointed at a glass wall on the opposite side of the atrium.

“Past that exhibit there’s a staircase that’ll take us to the roof.”

“We’re going to have to be very quiet to get past these bastards,” Andris said. “Probably need to kill a few along the way.”

“No worries,” Meredith said, patting her knife sheath. “I was in the CIA. Quiet is what I do.”

Andris’s face scrunched up. “But that was many years ago you were a field operative, no?”

“Need me to prove I still got it?” She moved silently from behind the staircase toward a Skull in the middle of their path. She wrapped a hand around the Skull’s mouth and pressed her blade through the bottom of its fleshy chin. The monster thrashed against her grip until she plunged the knife deep enough to pierce the roof of its mouth and stab into its brain stem. Blood dripped from the wounds as she gently lowered the body to the floor. Turning back to Andris, she raised an eyebrow and beckoned him over.

“Ah, okay,” Andris said in his lilting accent. “You have proved you still have it.”

The dark humor did nothing to lighten Meredith’s mood. She led him painfully slowly past mannequins dressed in various forms of scientific garb: white lab coats, biohazard suits, climbing gear for field biologists scaling the expansive trees of rain forests. Past the faux scientists, another two Skulls lurked. Meredith used two fingers to indicate her eyes then pointed to the creatures roaming between the legs of a giant grasshopper. She shot a few hand signals commanding Andris take the left while she took the right. He motioned to his suppressed SCAR-H.

Shaking her head, Meredith took her knife out again. The suppressed muzzles might make their gunfire quieter, but in the confined quarters of the museum, the shots would be amplified enough to attract the attention of the other monsters in the wing.

With her fingers, she counted down: Three. Two. One. They dashed toward the Skulls. Meredith was on the first before the monster could so much as twitch a talon. Her blade found its target, and the Skull fell backward into her arms. She laid it on the floor and let it bleed out. She turned to Andris. He had his hand clamped over the mouth of the other Skull but hadn’t worked his blade in fast enough. It flailed and swiped at the air. Andris kept himself at the Skull’s back, preventing the monster from impaling him with its scythe-like claws.

But Meredith saw the panicked look on his face. He was losing his grip on the creature. The Skull slammed its feet against one of the spiny legs of the giant grasshopper. They both slammed into a display case full of pinned butterflies. Glass shattered and pinged against the marble floor. A low growl sounded from a neighboring exhibit, and Meredith heard the telltale click of claws against tile.

Meredith and Andris didn’t have much time. She sprinted at the thrashing pair and brought her blade down into the Skull’s eye socket. She leaned on the knife as hot blood poured out. When the Skull went still, Andris pushed the corpse off and stood, leveling his rifle.

She rushed to the door where she heard the next Skull coming from. The creature emerged from the shadows and pounced. It shrieked before Meredith could reach it. She landed a kick that knocked the Skull’s claws away inches from slicing into her flesh. A second kick sent the monster crashing into the wall, and then she threw her blade. The knife whistled through the air and impaled itself in the center of the creature’s face, buried up to the hilt. When the creature slumped, Meredith dashed toward it and retrieved the knife. She flicked the blood off and looked for her next target.

More low growls echoed throughout the atrium. The Skull’s haunting wails filled the cavernous space, and it was difficult to tell where they were coming from.

“Come on!” Meredith said in a low voice.

She led Andris through an exhibit showing the various stages of chocolate production. Meredith briefly wondered if she’d ever taste chocolate again; in this insane new world, a Hershey’s bar seemed like an unimaginable luxury. They ran into another room depicting various marsupials. Between a kangaroo and a wallaby, another Skull reared back. Its nose scrunched in a snarl, and its gray lips curled back, baring a set of cracked and serrated teeth. Andris ran at the Skull and lashed out with his knife. He knocked the monster, bleeding and dying, into a wombat. The Skull groaned. It crashed into the floor, and its limbs twitched. Andris pulled his blade out, and it finally went still.

She hid behind a doorway before moving on. Andris went flat against the wall beside her. Several howling Skulls ran down the catwalk to where Andris’s first target had fallen into the glass.

Meredith ran down the catwalk in the opposite direction, toward the massive glass wall. Andris fell in behind her. A half-dozen more Skulls clambered up the frozen escalators to join the growing mob of creatures in the exhibit with the grasshopper.

Renee’s voice came over the comm link. “Meredith, Andris. You’ve got ten minutes. Do you copy?”

“Copy,” Meredith said in a hushed voice. “We’re almost there.”

More Skulls skittered up the escalators, climbing over each other. A Skull came bounding past their position. It stopped in its tracks when it spotted Meredith and Andris. She lunged. Her knife flashed before her. The Skull let out a gargling cry, blood bubbling from its mouth. Already, more Skulls were coming, drawn by the sound.

“Shit,” Meredith said. “Run!”

They sprinted into The Wonders of Math exhibit. That had always been her favorite subject in school, and she hoped that it would treat them well now. Winding between display cases, Meredith moved toward the back wall. Frenzied howls and wails chased after them, and the clatter of claws against the floor sounded more loudly than before. Meredith reached a door labeled Employees Only. She tried the handle, but the door was locked.

“They’re gaining!” Andris shouldered his rifle and took aim. Rounds lanced into the nearest creature, and it hit the floor with a thud, knocking over a glass display case on its way down. More Skulls plowed through the wreckage. They shattered displays and trampled each other, grinding abacuses and graphing calculators beneath their taloned feet. Andris continued to fire, and the monsters roared back, throwing themselves into his wall of lead.

Meredith slammed the butt of her rifle against the handle. The stock glanced off. She hit it again and again. “Goddammit!”

“You fire. I will take care of the door!”

Andris switched positions with her. Dozens of the creatures were piling up behind the glass wall, climbing over each other to reach the math room. Meredith fired a spray of bullets into the closest Skulls, knocking them backward. Several of the rounds pierced the glass, and fracture lines began to spread across its surface. Frenzied Skulls fought one another to be the first to reach the fresh meat, and they threw themselves against the cracked glass.

Once that wall gave way, the monsters would flood the room.

“There, almost set!” Andris said, putting a small detonator on the C4 he’d molded along the door handle. “Back up!”

Meredith fired on another pouncing Skull, and they positioned themselves away from the door, behind a toppled display case.

“Fire in the hole!” Andris said.

The small explosion blew out the handle, and the door swung open. At the same time, the glass wall finally came down. It wouldn’t be long—perhaps only seconds—before the creatures were on them. She couldn’t let them stop her from helping Dom’s evac from the T station.

Meredith stopped firing her rifle, pulled open the side door to the grenade launcher under its barrel, and loaded in a grenade case.

What are you doing?” Andris asked. “We need to move!”

“You go! I’ll catch up!”

“No way!” Andris said. He shouldered his rifle and fired into the horde of Skulls.

She pulled the trigger. The grenade lobbed out of the launcher and crashed into the Skull leading the pack. A booming explosion followed the impact. The two huge metal spheres and columns came crashing down in the nearby Lightning Show exhibit. Bones crunched and wails sounded from under the heavy metal objects. Fire licked up around the fallen spheres. Tongues of flame caught two massive banners hanging from the ceiling, and the conflagration climbed them.

“Now we can go!” Meredith yelled.

Meredith and Andris shot up the stairs, taking them two or three at a time. Her quads burned. She felt the temporary effects of adrenaline finally leaving her body, no longer able to sustain her energy. Meredith thought of Dom and the rest of Alpha. She pushed on for him, for the Hunters.

Two Skulls burst into the stairwell. They slid into the wall, their claws scrambling for traction. Sooty, black burns marred their skeletal plates. Meredith fired on them while continuing her ascent. One fell and tumbled down the stairs. The other continued unperturbed, not sparing a glance at its fallen companion.

“Almost there!” Andris called, now ahead of her.

Another three Skulls joined in. One was missing an arm. Another’s chest appeared caved in, but that didn’t stop it from howling at the sight of Meredith. She continued up the spiraling stairs, and the sounds of more Skulls chased after her. She reached a landing and caught up to Andris. He pushed through the door, held it open for her, and then engaged the internal lock.

They emerged into the cool night air. A freezing wind tugged at them. The door rattled as Skulls pounded on it from the other side.

A question occurred to her—one she probably should have asked earlier. “How are we going to get back down?”

Andris set down his pack. He pulled a loop of braided climbing rope from it. “Can you rappel?”

“I most certainly can if it means we don’t have to fight our way through those bastards again.” She set down her own pack and stepped toward the side of the tower. “Glad you were thinking ahead.”

Andris nodded and started to assemble his sniper rifle. Adjusting the sights on her SCAR-H, Meredith lay prone near the edge of the roof. She placed the rifle beside her and scanned the streets along the dam with her binos. She gulped.

“You good with long-distance shots?”

“Better when I was in the French Foreign Legion. Had more practice then.”

Meredith counted the Skulls wandering between wrecked cars. There were so many—maybe too many. Dom and the rest of Alpha would never make it if they didn’t thin the herd first. 

“It looks like you’re about to get plenty of practice,” she said.

-21-

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“We’re almost there!” Dom yelled, pointing toward the opening of the tunnel at the end of the platform. The labored breaths of the Hunters sounded all around him, and their boots crunched on the gravel between the tracks.

Miguel reached the platform first. A Skull lingering next to a tiled column caught sight of him. The Hunter aimed his rifle and let loose three rounds. The bullets tore into the creature, ending its life before it could charge. The other Hunters formed a perimeter around Glenn and Connor. Terrence grimaced as he shouldered his rifle. The bandages along his neck crinkled as he moved, and Dom shuddered to think what the wounds beneath must look like.

“Take a moment to rest and reload,” Dom said.

The clicking of magazines being replaced echoed in the cavernous room. Connor began to sob again. Glenn gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze and knelt next to him.

“You’re going to see your parents soon, buddy. Just a little longer, okay?” Glenn licked his thumb and cleaned some of the grime plastering Connor’s face. Connor bobbed his head slowly, his bottom lip quivering.

“Bravo, this is Alpha,” Dom said into his comm link. “We’re at the Science Park T station.”

“Copy, Alpha,” Renee called back. “So glad to hear your voice again. Frank can’t get an LZ, so we’re going to pick you guys up ourselves.”

“Understood. What’s the situation?”

“Skulls.” Meredith’s voice came over the comm link now. “Lots of them. But Andris and I will have you guys covered.”

“And where are we meeting Bravo?”

“In the river,” Renee said. “You’re going to need to drop in over the dam near the Museum of Science. It’ll be a short run for you. Maybe thirty yards. Hop over the guardrail, and we’ll scoop you out of the water.”

“Sounds like a half-baked plan, but I’m tired of these damn tunnels.” Dom turned to the rest of his team. “You all ready to do this?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” they chorused.

Glenn started to pick Connor up, but Terrence motioned for the man to stop.

“I’ve got him,” Terrence said. “I’m going to be a crappy shot with my shoulders burned to hell. Can’t aim a rifle steady, but I can hold the boy.”

“You sure about that? I’m happy—”

“I’m good. But you gotta kill triple the bony bastards to make up for me.”

A wide grin spread across Glenn’s face. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“All right, team,” Dom said. “Everybody knows their places. Stay frosty and quiet.”

“You got it, Chief,” Miguel said, flexing his prosthetic fingers. They clicked against the metal of his rifle.

He and Jenna led the group up the stairs to the aboveground station. They crept between the stone pillars and a wall of ticket machines. Dark splatters covered the vacant LCD screens, and shredded newspapers littered the ground. The team took careful steps toward the exit doors. A body rested against them. It was a man in khakis and a collared shirt. No bony protrusions stuck out of his skin, though his face appeared gaunt and skeletal.

“God, looks like he just starved to death,” Jenna said.

Miguel shook his head. “Waiting for help that never came.”

Guilt stabbed through Dom. Here was yet another soul they might’ve saved. If they’d been in Boston sooner, if the military had done something more to eradicate the Skulls, this man might’ve made it.

“Let’s try to do this as quietly as possible, but”—Dom gingerly moved the body aside—”as soon as we open those doors, move fast.”

The Hunters signaled their assent with nods and thumbs up. Dom inhaled deeply and then nudged open the door. Miguel and Jenna slunk out first, followed by Terrence with Connor in his arms. Glenn and Dom took up rear guard. The group flitted, one after another, from the newsstands in front of the station to a city bus with fractured windows. Skulls lumbered between the cars and over the sidewalks. They moved with no sense of urgency, and Dom hoped Alpha team wouldn’t give them a reason to be urgent.

Miguel peeked around the corner of the bus to gauge their next hiding spot. When he did, two Skulls lurking around a taxi spotted him. One of their heads exploded immediately. Brain and bone fragments splattered the asphalt. Gore spattered against the remaining Skull, then it, too, went down in a bloody burst.

“Nice shooting, Andris,” Dom said in a low voice.

“It was luck, Captain,” Andris replied. “And I’m not sure how much of it I have. There’s a pack of Skulls, maybe twenty, thirty deep, traveling westbound toward your position. They’re moving slow, but they’ll be on you in minutes.”

“Copy,” Dom whispered back.

Flashing a quick hand signal, Dom commanded Miguel to move forward. The Hunter sprinted behind a garbage truck that had bulldozed into a line of cars. He crouched near its rugged rear tire. The other Hunters took turns covering each other and running to the next vehicle. Glenn slid into his spot last. Another Skull with wide, fin-like shoulder blades jutting from its back turned toward the garbage truck. It cocked its head for a second. A loud splat followed. Its head disappeared in bloody fireworks.

“Keep trying my luck, friends,” Andris’s voice crackled over the comm link. “Alpha, more Skulls coming in from south of the station. I’m afraid you cannot take this slowly.”

“You heard him,” Dom said. He signaled for the others to stay low and dash between a line of cars leading toward the Museum of Science.

A Skull blocked their path. Miguel lunged. His hidden knife flicked out of his prosthetic and impaled the monster through its neck. It gurgled, and Miguel lowered the dying creature to the asphalt gently. Another crept up on them from between an SUV and minivan. Jenna slashed out with her knife. A third caught sight of her, but its head exploded in a shower of pink and red. Dom thanked the heavens Andris hadn’t lost his sharpshooting skills.

The headless creature fell against a car, and a hollow thud rang out. The noise was just enough to attract several more of the nearby Skulls. They were two cars over from the nearest Hunter, Glenn. No one could reach them in time without firing a shot, and Dom judged in that split second Andris couldn’t bring down all four before one of them howled, calling the rest of the pack.

Dom straightened, shouldered his rifle, and fired at one Skull. Glenn took out a second, and Andris managed to bring down the third. But the fourth fell to all fours, coiling to pounce. Andris’s second shot missed the Skull. It shattered the car window behind the creature. The creature screeched, and the Skull lunged over a police cruiser at Glenn.

The Hunter swung his barrel around and fired a couple of quick shots. The rounds sent the Skull sprawling over the hood of the cruiser. But the monster had already done irreparable damage.

There was no more time for stealth.

“Run!” Dom yelled.

Skulls, no longer lethargic and slow, charged. They jumped and soared over wrecked cars and scrambled out of storefronts with shattered windows. The monsters’ howls resounded through the streets. Armor-piercing rounds shattered bony armor and sent the rampaging Skulls tumbling in a mess of blood and limbs. Miguel hurdled the fallen corpses and spun to his right. He sent another salvo into a throng of monsters streaming around a fire truck.

A loud wail crashed against Dom’s ears. He turned in time to see a Skull dropping on him from the top of another bus. With a quick sidestep, he dodged the monster. Bones cracked against asphalt, and the Skull’s claws scraped the spot where Dom had been. He squeezed the trigger of his rifle and ensured the Skull stayed down. There was no time to catch his breath; he raised his barrel and aimed at a sprinting Skull. With two well-placed shots, the creature crumpled forward. Momentum carried the monster across the asphalt. Its listless body slammed into a sedan.

“Help!” Terrence yelled. A Skull with long horns slashed at him, and he twisted to protect the little boy in his arms. One of its scything claws caught his fatigues.

Dom saw a flash of red underneath the tear. He ran toward Terrence and leveled his weapon at the creature’s overgrown ribs. Three rounds knocked the monster backward. Hot crimson poured between the cracked ribs, but it didn’t stop. It pushed itself up, and Dom put another three rounds into it. Blood bubbled and popped from between the Skull’s curved teeth. The Skull’s bloodshot eyes rolled back, and it crashed to the ground.

The crack of gunfire, chorus of Skulls, and clatter of claws grew louder. More glass shattered from stray bullets smashing through car windows and storefronts. Rounds pinged off the vehicles. All the while, the Hunters cleared a swathe out in front of them, desperate to keep the lane between the cars clear.

Two more Skulls appeared to Dom’s right. He kept running as one’s chest burst open. The other fell backward, its skeletal face destroyed by another of Andris’s well-placed shots. Alpha team continued their unrelenting charge toward the dam, toward the water. Toward safety.

Miguel and Jenna reached the dam first and dove for the water. Terrence carried Connor and leapt into the water with a splash.

Dom caught up to the group. He had thought Glenn was right behind him, but when Dom turned to tell the Hunter to jump, he realized Glenn had fallen behind, guarding their escape. He was still several yards away from the dam—and Skulls were closing in from all sides.

Dom moved to help his Hunter, but he was already too late. He watched in horror as Glenn disappeared under a writhing mass of Skulls.

“No!” Dom sprayed gunfire into the spiky backs of the monsters nearest him. He fired at two others, point-blank, and kicked their lifeless bodies away. But Glenn still remained out of sight, buried under the attacking creatures. “Goddammit, no!”

“Come on, Chief,” Miguel called from the Zodiac. “What’s the holdup?”

Dom didn’t have time to explain. He prepared to fire again, but two Skulls flew into the air, carried by some unseen force. Three more were thrown back, alive but dazed. Glenn shot out from the pile of Skulls. One grabbed his arm and prepared to take a savage bite. Glenn swung his fist into the creature’s nose. The monster’s cartilage caved in. Blood seeped from scratches in Glenn’s arms and legs. He’d lost his helmet in the fray, and a lacerated six-inch cut on his scalp drenched half his face in blood.

But he was alive. He was fucking alive. He turned and sprinted toward Dom.

Dom sprayed a volley into the Skulls now chasing after the injured Hunter. He brought them down one after the other. When Glenn reached the dam, Dom wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder, and they jumped together into the water twenty feet below.

Almost immediately, Dom felt the weight of his armor-plated tac vest drag him down. He fought against the pull while struggling to keep Glenn’s head above water. He started to slip under the cold, dark waves, but then fingers wrapped around his limbs and pulled him from the river. Miguel and Jenna dragged him into the Zodiac, while Renee and Spencer yanked Glenn aboard. One of Glenn’s eyes was already swollen shut.

“You good, Captain?” Jenna asked.

“I’m good.” And despite his soaked fatigues and the cries of the Skulls still ringing in his ears, he felt good. Some of the more suicidal monsters splashed into the water in a futile attempt to board the Zodiac. But the currents swept them away, and they sank below the murk. Spencer was already patching up Glenn. A young, lanky guy he didn’t recognize was tending to Terrence’s acid burns. Dom guessed he must be Navid, and he gave the man a warm, approving smile.

Dom liked Navid already. Someone they’d rescued was yet again already doing their small part to help humanity in its fight against the Oni Agent. He’d marveled at the way men and women seemed to instinctively want to help each other, banding together against a common enemy.

His relief was short-lived when he remembered that Meredith and Andris were still on the museum roof. He sighted them on the tower, preparing to rappel down the building. Unfortunately, a mass of Skulls was waiting for them below.

“Meredith, Andris,” he said over the comm link, “sit tight. Frank, can you pick up our friends on the roof?”

The thrum of the AW109 zoomed overhead, and Dom watched the chopper hover near the top of the museum’s tower. Two shapes hopped through the open side door. Skulls began scaling the walls, climbing up the bricks like cockroaches. But the chopper banked away before they’d reached the second floor.

“Good work, everyone,” Dom said. They’d done it. They’d accomplished their mission, delivered a slew of samples, rescued survivors they hadn’t expected to find—and he hadn’t lost a Hunter. He looked at Terrence, then Glenn, and frowned slightly. At least, not yet. Hopefully not at all, if they got the injured back in time for Lauren to treat. Tonight had been a solid win, and soon he’d be back aboard his ship with his crew, his daughters, and maybe even a hot breakfast. Life was, if not good, a hell of a lot better than it’d been since the outbreak.

-22-

––––––––

Kara heard the mechanical grinding of the cargo bay doors. She knew what the sound meant—the Hunters had returned from their mission.

“Dad’s back!” Sadie yelled. Maggie’s tail whipped madly at the girl’s excitement.

Kara’s thoughts veered between relief and dread. She hoped with all her heart that he had come home...but what if he wasn’t on the Zodiac? Every time he left the Huntress, that fear crept into her mind, and she’d had to mindfully force it out. Focusing on FoldIt had been meditative enough to distract her. But now she would face whatever reality might hold.

Kara and Sadie hurried to the cargo bay, Maggie loping after them. Dim amber lights guided their way. It was bustling with activity. Men and women ran back and forth between the bay and passageway. Shouts and commands exploded around her in terse voices. She spotted Lauren rushing into the bay with Peter, both carrying a case full of medical supplies. Divya chased behind with a gurney at her side.

A sinking feeling caught hold of Kara. If the medical team was worried, then she was worried.

Kara jogged the rest of the way down the passageway. She was about to follow the doctors inside when a hand grabbed her shoulder.

“Not right now,” Thomas Hampton said, giving her a scolding look. “It’s best to stay out of everyone’s way.”

“But my dad—”

“Is fine,” Thomas said. “The whole crew made it. And they brought back two more survivors.”

“Why can’t we go down there? I want to see Dad!” Sadie said. Maggie barked to emphasize the girl’s point.

“Like I said, we need to stay out of the way.” Thomas offered a sympathetic smile, sending his sun-worn skin wrinkling. “What do you think I’m doing out here?”

Kara leaned against the bulkhead to wait. After a few minutes, Lauren jogged down the hall with a battered-looking Glenn, who had a young boy in his arms. Terrence followed close behind, refusing to be carried on the gurney, with Divya dabbing at bandages over his head and arms.

Then a familiar voice boomed down the passage. “Girls!”

Kara and Sadie both grinned and hurried to meet their father and Meredith. They were climbing the ladder from the bay, and their faces were covered in a mixture of soot and grime, interspersed with flecks of dried blood.

Meredith must’ve seen the expression Kara was making. “Don’t worry! None of it is ours!”

When they reached the top of the ladder, Dom scooped up his daughters and enveloped them in a bear hug. Kara threw her arms around his neck and pushed her head into the crook in his shoulder. She felt like a giddy little girl, overjoyed to see her daddy come home from work. Then again, Dominic Holland was technically returning from a long day on the job—but a job more dangerous and important than any other on earth.

Reluctantly, she let him go, although Sadie still clung to his neck like a monkey. She turned to Meredith and gave the woman a shy smile, but Meredith surprised her with a hug. The whole time, Maggie danced and barked at their feet, her tail waving madly.

“Glad to see you too, girl.” Dom scratched the dog’s head. He started to ruffle the fur between her shoulders, but she shot out from under him when Miguel finally made it to the top of the ladders.

“How’s my best buddy?” The dog jumped, and Miguel caught her in his arms. 

“Traitor,” Dom muttered good-naturedly.

Kara watched the soldier gingerly move his prosthetic arm to avoid hurting Maggie’s still-healing front limb. More Hunters spilled into the passageway, all looking like they’d been through hell. The golden retriever greeted each with wet kisses, and Kara watched their smiles cut white crescents through the grime caked on their faces. Maggie’s pack had grown, and Kara figured the Hunters here were better off for it.

“Thomas said everyone’s okay,” Kara said. “Is that true?”

Dom nodded. “We all made it, at least.”

“Did you get what you were looking for?”

“I don’t know.” A sly grin spread across Dom’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me?”

Kara refrained from rolling her eyes. Then she realized how crazy it was that their usual father-daughter banter could survive this whole mess. She gave her father a pretend dirty look. “You realize you aren’t paying me nearly enough to go through all those data on molecules and drugs you gave to Lauren.”

“Yeah,” Sadie said. “If we’re going to be testing every single one of them on FoldIt, you should at least raise my allowance.”

Dom laughed. “I’ll see what we can do.” His expression turned serious, and he leaned closer to Kara. “Listen, the other survivor—”

“Navid, that’s his name, right?”

“Right. He’s had it rough. Lost his girlfriend. She turned.”

Kara’s limbs felt weak at the thought. “Oh.”

“I know this is asking a lot, but he might need to talk to somebody.”

“And you thought I could talk to him...because of Mom.”

“Right.” Dom gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Think you can handle that?”

“Of course,” Kara said in as confident a tone as she could. “I won’t let you down.”

***

Navid shivered as a cool breeze whipped around the cargo bay. He wrapped the emergency blanket around himself more tightly. A tinge of fiery orange and golden yellow chased the blackness in the pre-dawn sky. But across the water, Boston was still dark. Navid figured no number of sunrises would lighten the real darkness plaguing the city.

“You’re going to be okay now,” Renee said, offering a hand.

Navid took it and stepped over the side of the Zodiac. He doubted he would really ever be okay after everything he’d seen. “It’s really like this? All over the world, I mean?”

Renee’s eyes traced the deck before catching his again. “As far as we know, yes. I’m really sorry about everything that’s happened to you, Navid.”

He bobbed his head up and down. He couldn’t force any more words out, despite the flurry of thoughts storming through his mind. His friends. His parents. His sister. Abby. Everything and everyone he’d known. Gone.

“Let’s find you some dry clothes and a bed.”

“Okay,” Navid managed. He focused on that little joy. Dry clothes. No more water sloshing between his toes. He’d worn the same outfit for days on end, and he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have a clean shirt.

He almost turned around to say something to Abby about it, but then he remembered. He would never speak to her again. He almost wished Renee and Spencer had left him in the ambulance at the bottom of the river.

“Or food? Do you want to eat first?” Renee asked, shooting him an inquisitive look as she guided him between the crates and racks of equipment.

“Food,” Navid said automatically. He hadn’t had anything substantial to eat since...since he and Abby had eaten those last granola bars together. He stopped walking, frozen in place. That was the last meal he’d shared with her. Damned granola bars.

His knees buckled, and he crashed to the deck. He clamped his palms over his eyes and clenched them shut until he could feel the veins pop in his forehead. Oh God. Why’d he lose everything? Why hadn’t it been him instead of Abby?

Renee knelt beside him and placed both her hands on his shoulder. He expected her to say something, to offer some trite condolences or hollow promises. If she told him he’d be okay, Navid thought he might lose it. Nothing would ever be okay again, and nothing she could say would change that.

But Renee said nothing. She stayed there with him in silence until Navid willed his breathing to return to normal. He opened his eyes and sat up straight.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—”

Renee shook her head. “Nothing to be sorry about.” She helped him stand, and she looked around at the others carrying equipment from the Zodiac. She spoke in a hushed voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret. When I’m alone in my quarters, when I’m holed up at night, trying to fight for an hour or two of sleep, I can’t stand it. I’ve cried myself to sleep more nights than I can count, or lain awake thinking about how fucked up the world is. Me and the rest of the Hunters act cool, but we lean on each other to keep going. I can’t imagine what you went through out there alone.”

“Thanks,” Navid said, and he was surprised to find that he meant it.

“Don’t thank me. But if you want some advice, you need to find your reason to keep going. Be part of something. We’re trying to turn this shit around, and I guarantee you somebody on this ship can find a way for you to help. Think about it.”

Navid stood silent for a second as he stared up at the hatch leading into the ship. Yellow light spilled from the passageway, beckoning him. He saw Dom, Meredith, and two auburn-haired girls that had to be the captain’s daughters. And a dog, an honest-to-god golden retriever, crept to the edge of the hatch and looked down at him, her tail wagging.

“Yeah,” Navid finally said. “I’ll do it. I want to be a part of this.”

***

Lauren watched Connor hug his parents. They managed to wrap their spindly arms around him, but she saw he had far more strength in his grip than either of them. Fortune must’ve truly shone on the family to allow this reunion, against all odds. On another bed near them, Terrence sat, his legs dangling over the side. Divya applied an antibiotic salve laced with medicine to help the Hunters’ singed skin heal from the acid burns.

“Droolers, huh?” Lauren asked Glenn, who was seated on the edge of another examination bed. She and Peter sutured up the lacerations across his scalp and on his arms. Nothing had torn into him too deeply, thank God.

“Yep,” Glenn replied. “Bastards spit this acidic goo. Burns through clothes and skin, apparently.” He gestured at Terrence and grimaced. “Poor guy.”

“I’m glad you guys brought back samples. And...I’m glad you’re back. Sorry, but this is going to hurt.” Lauren inserted a thin suture needle into Glenn’s skin. She created a small loop and poked the suture needle in again.

“Ouch! I hope you’re gonna kiss that and make it better.”

Lauren smiled and shook her head. “Looking at those guys’ biochemical makeup, along with the Goliaths’, might give us some clue why the Oni Agent’s doing that to them.”

“And hopefully that helps us figure out how to kill them better, right?”

Peter laughed. “I thought bullets were doing the trick.”

“Ain’t enough bullets in the world,” Glenn said. “Besides, you guys come up with some science trick to eradicate those bastards, I’ll take you all on a vacation. Someplace nice.” He winced as Lauren pulled another suture through. “Maybe a resort. You can have a spa day where the only treatments you get are those mud mask things—none of this chelation business. What do you say, Lauren? I’ll even get you one of those fruity drinks with the little umbrellas.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer.” Lauren tied off the suture. “All done.”

“Do I get a lollipop, Doc?”

“Fresh out.” Lauren leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Will that work?”

“Hey, I’m not done yet,” Peter said as he secured a bandage over the sutures. He finished applying a piece of surgical tape over the bandage. “There. Now, I’m finished, too. You want a kiss from me?”

“I think I’m good,” Glenn said. He arched an eyebrow at Lauren. “You’re sure you gave me the right amount of chelation therapy this time, right?” He pointed to the small bandage covering the injection site where Lauren had administered the treatment. “I don’t want to have to sit out on another mission due to weak bones again.”

“I wish you would sit out on a mission or two,” Lauren said. “But we’ve gotten better with the treatments, and yes, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Glad to hear it.” Glenn stood from the examination table. A smile etched his face. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can focus on finding out what the deal is with those Goliaths and Droolers. I’m anxious to learn what you find.”

“Likewise,” Lauren said.

“I’ll bet the Detrick scientists are dying to know, too, huh?”

Lauren winced, inhaling sharply.

Glenn’s eyes went wide. “Something happened, didn’t it?”

“Detrick’s gone, Glenn.”

-23-

––––––––

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dom said, fighting to hold back the anger boiling inside him. He clenched his fists until his fingers went numb and the vessels in his arms popped.

The screen at the front of the electronics workshop lit up with an overhead image of Fort Detrick. The still frame showed gray smoke billowing up from wreckage strewn across the wall. Even at this magnification, the pale forms of Skull bodies were visible, littered across the grass, streets, and parking lots. Chain-link fence lay flat where it had been torn down. Dom thought he spotted a Goliath or two scattered in the carnage. A field stretched between two buildings, and Dom pointed at the large, dark shapes on the grass.

“Wait a second. Are those helicopters?” he asked.

Samantha moused over the image and zoomed in on the area Dom had indicated. The screen flashed and then refreshed with the magnified area.

“Hey!” Adam said, standing abruptly. He knocked against his desk, and one of his Watchmen figurines fell over. “That’s an Apache! And that looks like a Chinook.” He pointed wildly at two of the helicopters. “I’m almost certain.”

Dom squinted at the image. “You might be right.” He folded his arms across his chest and paced. “For a man who said he wasn’t going to reinforce Detrick, Kinsey sure brought a lot of firepower to get them out.”

“If the base was overrun, maybe they needed to bring in the cavalry for a safe evac,” Adam offered.

“Maybe,” Dom said. “But all this happened while we were in Boston. You know how fast the Skulls strike. For Kinsey to muster that kind of force, I don’t think he waited until Shepherd told him Detrick was going down.”

“Wait,” Samantha said, one dark eyebrow arched. “You think Kinsey already had troops headed that direction?”

“I do, yes.”

Chao scowled and scanned through the transcripts of their communications with Fort Detrick and General Kinsey. “He always said Detrick was on their own if they chose to stay instead of leaving with his men. He made no mention of ever sending an escort.” He leaned in closer and frowned. “Huh, that’s weird.”

“What is it?” Dom peered over Chao’s shoulder.

“Kinsey definitely said the 82nd was going to pull out at 2300 hours.”

Dom gestured toward a line with his index finger. “But the message from Shepherd’s team said the evac didn’t happen until 0600 this morning.”

“Maybe Kinsey changed his mind about letting Fort Detrick personnel stay behind,” Samantha said. “Maybe he sent the extra choppers to whisk everyone away.”

“Then why didn’t he tell Shepherd?” Dom shook his head. “And why didn’t Shepherd tell us?”

“I don’t like this,” Adam said. “Seems like we’re being left in the dark.”

Dom wrung his fingers together. “Then see if you all can’t shed some light on this. Have you heard anything from Shepherd since his evac?”

Chao shook his head. “Every inquiry goes unanswered. Nothing from Shepherd, Fort Detrick, or Kinsey.”

“Understood,” Dom said. “Do what you do best. Intercept any encrypted comms you can between Kinsey and the base, track their movements, and try to find out what the hell happened to Shepherd.”

Dom started to turn toward the exit, when Chao called his name.

“Captain!” Chao said. “We’re getting a call!”

Dom turned around. “Shepherd?”

“No, it’s General Kinsey.”

“Answer it.” Dom frowned as he walked slowly to a comm panel. It was all too much of a coincidence, and his gut told him that he wasn’t going to like whatever Kinsey had to say.

***

Meredith dropped her tac vest by the bench and slumped down. She let out a long sigh as she pulled the armor plates and leftover magazines from the vest.

“Long night,” Andris commented. He took the magazine out of his SCAR-H, cleared the chamber, and then rechecked it. He started disassembling the rifle for cleaning. “Can’t wait to pass out.”

“You got that right.” Meredith let down her hair and pulled her fingers through it. It had tangled into greasy strings beneath her helmet. “Maybe a shower first.”

“Eh, showers are overrated. When I joined the French Foreign Legion, they had us hiking and running in the woods for days. No showers. None of this deodorant. Just the outdoors and a whole lot of sweat.”

Meredith snorted and picked up her rifle to start cleaning it. Her gear needed tending before she could take care of herself. “Why’d you join the Legion?”

“Typical story, I suppose. Wanted to get out of Latvia. Kind of hoped I’d get injured during service.”

Meredith paused cleaning her rifle. “Why’s that?”

“Well, you know how most people in the Legion come from other countries, right?”

“Of course. I always thought that was unique. No one’s ever really succeeded in pulling together a modern-day fighting force of foreign nationals like the French have.”

“I tend to agree,” Andris said. “But to your question, if I got hurt, I’d automatically become a French citizen.”

“Why France?”

“I would’ve taken anywhere outside of the old Soviet bloc countries. My family was poor. They did not do so well under the Communists. I needed a way out. Any way out.”

Meredith took off her jacket. “I guess you found it.”

“And you’re wondering why, no? Why does this Latvian man fighting for the French join a covert contractor to protect the United States?”

“When you put it that way, yes. I’m a bit curious.” Meredith hung the jacket up and undid her knife sheath.

Andris stowed his rifle in one of the weapons lockers. “A couple of years ago, you sent Dom to Syria.”

“I remember that well.” She’d tasked the Hunters with taking down a terrorist organization supporting the Assad government. The group had threatened to unleash a newly developed nerve agent targeting rebels and civilians alike. “Were you on that mission?”

A smirk crossed Andris’s face. “Not on purpose. A detachment of Legionnaires was also sent to investigate.” The smirk vanished. “Only, we were not so successful. Most in my unit perished in a firefight. I was left for dead. Then the Hunters came.”

“So with that injury, you got your French passport.”

Andris laughed. “No, no. My wish didn’t come true. The French still think I’m KIA. Dom whisked me back to the Huntress. The Legionnaires were long gone by then, and I was bleeding out.” He lifted his shirt to show the crooked scars in his abdomen and chest. “I would’ve died had they not brought me back here to Lauren and Peter.”

“I guess Dom’s habit of bringing back strays to his ship isn’t new.”

“He is a good man.” Andris opened his locker and stuffed his tac vest in along with his sheaths.

“Certainly is.”

Andris slammed the locker shut. “And that’s why I worry about him.”

“Oh?”

“He’s too good, Meredith. Think about it.” He placed a hand over his chest. “Letting me join after saving my life. Granted, I turned out to be a magnificent asset to his team, yes? But now we are playing host to many others who have not been vetted.”

“We have to do something for them, though. If we don’t, who will?”

“I agree. I really do. But we do not know who we’re letting aboard.” Andris looked around the armory to ensure they were the only ones left. “If someone deliberately caused the Oni Agent outbreak, then we must be vigilant. We do not know who our enemies are or where they might be.”

Meredith considered this. She was used to thinking strategically, trying to stay two steps ahead of an enemy. But it hadn’t occurred to her that there might be spies or conspirators amongst the survivors. Maybe Andris was just being paranoid...but her time in the CIA had given her a healthy respect for paranoia.

“I don’t think I’m overstating our purpose when I say the human race may be relying on our success.” He gestured toward her. “You and Dom know more about the Oni Agent and the CIA’s involvement than anyone else here. Maybe more than anyone else in the world.”

Meredith shot Andris a quizzical look, wondering where this conversation was headed.

“You know how to read people, how to evaluate risk and gauge uncertainty. And I’m sure you’ve had to make some tough choices in the CIA.” He sighed. “I trust Dom. I really do. I owe him my life. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to be his devil’s advocate. No one in the crew can second-guess his leadership, but you...”

“You want me to watch out for our real enemy.”

“Right. Not the Skulls. They are mindless killing monsters.”

Meredith thought back to her old supervisor, David Lawson, who’d told her to ignore that fateful memo regarding the IBSL. He must’ve known more about the Oni Agent and who was behind it than she guessed. She regretted not squeezing every last drop of information out of him when she had the chance. There was nothing worse for an intelligence officer than trying to deal with a situation blind.

“Tonight,” said Andris, “Dom risked his life to save Glenn. He did the same for that little boy in the hospital. He would die to protect all of us, even a stranger in the street. But without him, how will the Hunters fare?”

“You’re saying that Dom is too important to go out into the field?”

Andris shrugged. “Only that I would rest easier knowing someone was by his side who could make the hard decisions. He listens to you.”

Meredith nodded and watched Andris pack up his kit. “You want me to keep an eye on him?”

“In a word, yes. It is, how do you say, a tall order? But I believe you can handle it. Just as you handled those Skulls today.”

Andris left the armory, but Meredith stayed behind to consider his words.

How soon would it be before Dom tried to save someone who shouldn’t be saved?

Not only might he get himself killed, but his noble compassion might doom the Huntress and her crew. It was a sobering thought. It didn’t even need to be the terrorist mastermind behind the Oni Agent outbreak. Not everyone in the apocalypse was out to save humanity. In fact, many of them might be out to save only themselves. Letting someone like that aboard this ship could be disastrous.

She shuddered and drew her hands through her hair again. She left them on the back of her neck. It came down to trust. Dom trusted easily. He was a good man, and fundamentally he believed that everyone else was too. Meredith didn’t see things the same way. Maybe she’d grown cynical over the years, but she wondered if she and Dom had been too eager to trust the Army, trust Fort Detrick and Commander Shepherd. They’d given up the greatest asset they’d had—their secrecy and anonymity—when they’d given Shepherd a direct line of communication with their ship. She hoped that Shepherd and Kinsey would prove to be honorable men like Dom. In the meantime, she would have to stay vigilant and use every one of the skills she’d learned in the CIA.

-24-

––––––––

Shepherd felt the chopper start to descend. He couldn’t tell where they were with the bag over his head, and he’d tried to keep track of the time they’d spent in the air. Without being able to see, it was hard to tell how fast they were going or in what direction, making his attempts to orient himself exceedingly difficult. They’d landed once, not too long after the soldiers had whisked him away from Detrick. And now, it appeared they were landing again.

The helicopter’s wheels hit the ground with a jolt, and the side doors whooshed back. Someone unstrapped the seat’s harness and grabbed him.

“Move,” the gruff voice said.

In the distance, he heard the cries of Skulls and the crack of sporadic gunfire. The sound was almost drowned out by the thuds of landing choppers and the throaty rhythm of their slowing engines, but he would recognize the eerie wails of the monsters anywhere.

In his mind’s eye, he pictured Jackson, injured and outnumbered, trying to hold Detrick on his own. He imagined the men and women under his command falling to the monsters—or worse, becoming Skulls themselves. Shepherd should be there, fighting alongside them. Instead, Kinsey had sent a goon squad to kidnap him.

Another shriek pierced the din, and Shepherd winced. It sounded far too close.

“What’s going on?” he yelled over the noise.

There was no answer. He hadn’t really expected one. Hands tugged on his cuffed wrists, and rushed footsteps clicked on pavement. Metal doors groaned as they scraped against concrete. Pushed forward, he almost tripped when he misjudged a step. A staircase led him down into cool, humid air.

“Hey, watch it!” a female voice said somewhere near the top of the stairs. She sounded young, maybe college-aged. “Come on, they need us at Kent!”

Shepherd’s interest was piqued. Kent Island was where Captain Holland and his crew had set up a safe haven for survivors.

“Are you people going to help them? Answer me!” the young woman demanded. Shepherd could hear a brief scuffle. A sickening crack followed.

“Rachel!” a young man called. “Are you okay?”

Apparently Shepherd wasn’t the only captive of this mysterious detachment of US Army personnel.

A loud howl from a Skull bounced off the walls. Shepherd instinctively ducked. But his captors’ footsteps remained steady. There was no clicking of guns being readied or shots being fired. No panicked voices, no klaxons going off. The Skull’s growling persisted as Shepherd was guided deeper into the structure.

“Stop,” a low voice commanded.

He followed the order, and two hands pushed him roughly sideways. Losing his balance, he tried to swing his arms around to catch himself. But his wrists remained cuffed, and he slammed against cement, pain radiating up his side and shoulder. A heavy door swung shut, clanging loudly as it was locked.

Shepherd tried to remain calm, attempting to control his pulse and breathing. No use in panicking. No use in angry demands. These people wouldn’t respond. He had no idea what they wanted or where he was or how long he would be here. The only thing he knew for certain was that he felt furious. He inched toward the wall and then pushed himself upright. Once he was standing, he slowly paced the room. He took measured steps, tracing the edge of each wall. He calculated the room to be no more than ten by ten feet. The walls were cinder block, broken only by a single locked steel door. There was a musty-smelling cot with no blanket and an open hole in one corner from which a pungent odor drifted up.

Again, the voice of a Skull sounded somewhere nearby. Its wails flowed under the door, followed by the scrape of claws against steel. He knew it wasn’t his door, but he couldn’t help the fear creeping through him. He hated those monsters, and he hated not having a chance to defend himself if one happened on him now.

“Rachel! Rachel, are you okay?” That man’s voice again, followed by pounding against a door.

“Rory!” another voice—Rachel—groaned. “I’m okay.”

A different man yelled, “Shut up! Don’t make me come in there!”

The voices quieted, but the commotion had stirred the Skull. Its scraping became more frantic and its growling and wailing more erratic. Time wore on. Water dripped somewhere, splatting against concrete. Shepherd sat at the edge of his cot, refusing to succumb to the exhaustion overwhelming his body. He wouldn’t let himself be caught unaware by whatever threats faced him in this strange prison. He tried to keep track of the time by tapping out a rhythmic beat with his toe, but the monotony proved too much to bear. His thoughts whirled back to Detrick and the Hunters and Maryland and the rest of the world. His swirling thoughts all centered on one thing: he had to get out of there.

***

“We’ve had our eye on you, Captain Holland,” the gravelly voice on the line said. Dom stared at the handset in disbelief, unable to process what General Kinsey was saying. “We watched you and your crew return to the Huntress.”

“Watched us?” Dom asked. He couldn’t recall seeing any choppers or passing planes. Then the answer struck him. “Drones. If you saw we were in trouble, why didn’t you offer support?”

“Surveillance drones are all we’ve got on you right now,” Kinsey said.

All we’ve got on you right now. The words were ominous, dripping in veiled threats. Dom didn’t like it one bit, but he wouldn’t rise to the man’s bait.

“What happened to Fort Detrick?” Dom asked in as calm a voice he could manage. He paced next to Chao’s desk.

“The base was overrun.”

“Where’s Shepherd? We can’t seem to reach him.”

“Shepherd was part of the first wave of evacuees this morning. We lost communication with his escort en route and have no knowledge of his current whereabouts.”

Dom’s nose twitched into a soundless snarl. He couldn’t believe they’d lost Shepherd. He hadn’t known the man for long, but he’d respected Shepherd’s leadership. There were precious few leaders left to guide humanity. “Have you given up on Detrick completely? Is this what it’s come to? Neglecting—”

“Captain, I don’t have time for this. Your total command is one ship. I’m dealing with the coordination of military forces of a scope beyond what you could possibly imagine.”

“If your time is so important, why deal with me at all?”

“I’ve talked with my advisers and given thought to your previous comments,” Kinsey replied.

“So you’ve realized the importance of science in your war against the Oni Agent. And now, it’s too late. You’ve let Detrick and Shepherd fall.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Captain,” Kinsey said, the venom in his voice practically spitting through the handset. “Fort Detrick was never going to be where the scientific front of this war would take place. The resources there aren’t sufficient for the large-scale production of vaccines we’ll need.”

“We needed Fort Detrick for the scientists and research facilities too. Those would’ve been more than useful enough to keep standing.”

“Again, you’re wrong, Captain. You’re not seeing the bigger picture. I can.”

Dom massaged his forehead with one hand. “Enlighten me. How are we going to move forward with any worthwhile research?”

“We will first secure our nation’s capital. The National Institutes of Health complexes are close enough to Washington that we can establish our medical research labs there. We may even be able to use DC’s metro system for safe travel throughout the area.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“You didn’t need to know. But you offered your help, Captain, and now I’m taking it. I have a mission for you and your team.”

Dom hesitated a beat. He wasn’t happy taking orders from someone like Kinsey. It had always been much easier to operate more or less independently, with Meredith as his link to the CIA. But even then, he’d never taken direct orders. Still, he did want to help. “I’m listening.”

“Our intelligence indicates NIH staff may be trapped within the facilities. You would be part of the ground force that secures the facility.”

“After all the grief you’ve given me, you want me to retake one of our most important assets?”

“That’s correct,” Kinsey said. “As insolent as you may be, I respect what your group has done in the field. You seem to know your way around these new urban landscapes.”

Dom leaned against Chao’s desk, considering Kinsey’s words—and the hidden meanings within them. The comm specialist shot him a wary look.

“All right,” Dom said. “If you can give us a few more details, we might be in.”

“Good. I’m tasking you with specifically securing the Vaccine Production Program Laboratory within the NIH.”

So Kinsey wasn’t as pigheaded as he’d thought; the general wanted access to vaccine production facilities Fort Detrick could only dream of. Dom was starting to warm to the plan, especially the part about saving the scientists and researchers trapped inside the NIH. “When do you need us in Bethesda?”

“ASAP,” Kinsey said.

Dom glanced at one of the charts displayed on the screen. “We can make it back to the Chesapeake before nightfall. But I need to give my people enough time to breathe between missions. Give us a couple of days.”

The line went silent for a moment. “Very well. I expect the VPPL cleared within forty-eight hours.”

Two days. Two days to search and clear over three hundred acres of expansive clinical and laboratory facilities. “There’s no way my team can clear the entire facility within that timeframe. We need armed support.”

“And you’ll get some,” Kinsey said. “But I will not be sending my men inside. They’ll secure the grounds. It’ll be your team’s responsibility to go into the VPPL.”

“General, I only have nine men, including myself, available for this assignment. You’ve got to help us out here.”

“As I said, Captain, intelligence shows minimal activity within the VPPL. Your mission should be fairly straightforward.”

“And if it isn’t?” Dom asked, an edge to his voice.

“Then I’ll have to send someone else in later to clean up the mess.”

“Send them in now. With us.”

“Captain, can your team handle themselves against the Skulls or not? I’m getting mixed messages.”

“General Kinsey, sir, with all due respect, my people are not cannon fodder.”

“I grow tired of your attitude, Holland. Up until Commander Shepherd introduced us, I had no idea your covert operative unit even existed. It seems...convenient that you’ve surfaced just in time for our hour of need. Your knowledge of the Oni Agent is extensive—far more so than our own intelligence.”

“Whatever you’re implying, I assure you that—”

“Your assurances mean nothing to me, Captain Holland. If you want to prove I can trust you, prove you have a place in this new era of the United States, then do what I’ve asked.”

“General Kinsey, I—”

“I don’t have time for any more of this. Remember, my drones are always watching. You may have been covert before, but that time has passed.”

Dom seethed in silence. The veiled threats from earlier were becoming far less subtle. Kinsey was effectively holding them hostage. Should Dom not do what Kinsey asked, he had no doubt the general would have the Hunters tried for treason or worse. Dom didn’t think Kinsey honestly believed they were the ones responsible for the Oni Agent outbreak, but he could manipulate the facts to make them appear guilty. The bastard had them over a barrel, and there wasn’t much Dom could do about it.

Kinsey continued. “I’m sending your comm specialists a data package with all the mission-specific information you’ll need. That should answer any remaining questions. Now, execute your orders.”

The line went dead before Dom could say another word.

Chao looked up at him from his desk and took off his headset. “Guy sounds like a real treat. We really going to do this, Captain?”

Dom sighed. “I don’t see another choice. Without Detrick, we need a land-based ally.”

Samantha spoke up from her station. “Looks like we’re getting an encrypted data link.” She drained an energy drink and then crumpled the empty can. “Yep, it’s from Kinsey.”

“We had a good run, didn’t we, Captain?” Chao asked.

Dom raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“It was nice being cowboys, wrangling terrorists, reporting only to Sheriff Meredith. And now it’s like the bad old days, getting orders from the brass.”

Dom grinned. “Might look that way. But don’t be mistaken.” He pointed at Chao. “You still get your orders from me. No matter what Kinsey thinks.” He nodded toward the map where their location was marked with a blinking red dot. After grabbing a handset from Chao, he dialed for the pilothouse.

“Set sail for Maryland,” Dom said. “We’re headed home.”

-25-

––––––––

Lauren checked the biomonitors tracking survivors’ vital signs. Connor was curled up next to his mother, and all of them were sleeping. Their EKGs beeped softly and rhythmically. She thought she could see the color returning to their cheeks. Each passing day, they would recover a little bit more of their strength now that they’d passed the danger zone. She hoped they would soon be recovered enough to leave the medical bay. Now that she knew more about them, she figured the group would be more useful on Kent Island than on the Huntress. Their skills lay in clinical medicine. Kent Island, with its burgeoning civilian population, could use a little hands-on help.

She looked to Navid, who lay in another hospital bed with his eyes wide open. They still hadn’t decided what would become of him.

“How’s the hand?” she asked.

Navid rotated his hand, displaying his splinted fingers. He’d said his fingers were broken in a scuffle with a man who had tried to kill him and his girlfriend. “Still feels like shit.”

Lauren glanced at his medical chart. He hadn’t taken anything besides a couple of ibuprofen. “Need more pain meds?”

“No, I don’t want to get doped up.”

“After everything you went through, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Can’t do it,” Navid said. “I don’t want to take anything that messes with my mind.”

“Why’s that?”

“Might sound crazy. You all probably feel safe here, but—and I don’t mean any offense—I really don’t. Not sure if I’ll ever remember what safe feels like.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I just keep expecting someone here to turn.”

Lauren dragged a stool over and sat down. “I understand.”

A scowl crossed his face. “Do you?” He caught himself, and his expression softened. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I had to kill...”

His voice trailed off, and his stare went vacant. Lauren knew what he wanted to say. She’d pieced it together from talking to the Hunters and hearing snippets from Navid when he mustered the courage to talk. He’d been forced to kill his girlfriend after she’d turned into a Skull. He was right; she couldn’t understand that pain. All she could do was listen.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Lauren said. “I really can’t imagine what it must’ve been like. But let me know if you need anything. Medicine, something to read to distract yourself, or just someone to talk to.”

Navid nodded. “Thanks.”

The lab door opened, and Peter came out. “We isolated some cells from the samples of the Goliath,” he announced.

“Perfect,” Lauren said. “Let’s prep the tissue for some protein assays. I want to know what’s making those things huge.”

“Huge? Goliaths?” Navid asked, cocking his head. “Are you talking about the giant crazy that chased me? Are there more?”

“That’s right,” Peter said. “I’m afraid they’re becoming more common.”

Lauren saw a spark of curiosity in Navid’s eyes. It reminded her of scientists she’d worked with in the past. Give them a problem, a mystery, and their mind would immediately start clicking into gear. “We’re hoping to figure out how or why the Oni Agent would turn someone into one of those monstrosities,” she said.

“You think those things were affected by the same bioweapon as everyone else?”

Peter lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. “Don’t know. Could be a different weapon, but that seems unlikely.”

“More likely,” Lauren said, “we think some people’s bodies are responding differently to the Oni Agent.”

“Makes sense.” Navid picked at a loose string on one of the splints around his fingers. “Kind of like how people might experience different side effects from drugs.”

Lauren nodded. She couldn’t help thinking about how Kara had almost died because of her reaction to the chelation therapy or how Glenn had experienced drastically increased bone mineral loss. “Bodies are complicated.”

“That they are,” Peter said.

Navid’s head bobbed slowly, but he appeared to be lost in thought rather than agreeing.

“Back to the lab?” Lauren asked Peter.

“These experiments won’t run themselves.”

Lauren stood and opened the door to the lab.

“Wait a second,” Navid said. “I didn’t see much of the Goliath. I mean, I was running away from the bastard. But they’re outright huge. Big arms, big legs. Big muscles.”

“Right,” Peter said.

“Acromegaly,” Navid said. “Like André the Giant.”

Lauren grinned. “You might be onto something. If the pituitary gland is overproducing hormones, it might cause rapid growth beyond statistically normal sizes.”

Peter scratched his chin. “I see. So maybe the pituitary gland is somehow affected by the Oni Agent. I’ll start running assays to test specifically for growth hormone production.” He disappeared into the lab.

“Good thinking, Navid,” Lauren said.

“Thanks.” Navid’s brow furrowed. “Dr. Winters, there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why does it matter if the Oni Agent turns some people into Goliaths? Wouldn’t finding a vaccine or cure fix everything? Why isn’t your team working on that instead of investigating Goliaths?”

“Good point.” Lauren couldn’t help the slight smile spreading across her face. The young man wasn’t afraid to ask hard, pointed questions. There was checkbox number two on her assessment of Navid’s scientific acumen. “Here’s the truth. We’re months away at best from finding an actual vaccine or cure. Even if we do find one, it’ll take even longer to produce and distribute. Then it’s a terrifyingly long waiting game.”

“Okay,” Navid said, clearly still not satisfied.

“But in the meantime, we’re running across more and more Goliaths. In fact, the Hunters found a new subtype of Skulls in Boston they’re calling Droolers. I want to know what’s causing these mutations. Each seems deadlier than the last. Our enemies, the Skulls, are getting harder and harder to kill.” She spoke in a hushed voice to make sure the family of survivors didn’t overhear her. “Eventually, I’m afraid our conventional weapons will be outclassed by these monsters. But if I find out why these things are changing, why the Oni Agent is transforming their bodies even more radically than we anticipated, then maybe we can fight back.”

“I see.” Navid seemed to consider that for a moment. “At least with acromegaly, it isn’t always an advantage, right? I mean, didn’t it eventually kill Andre the Giant?”

Lauren nodded. “Exactly. All great gains come with a tremendous price. And I want to make sure that whatever advantages the Skulls get from their new transformations are paid in full.”

***

Dom relished the moments he’d spent with his daughters while they sailed from Boston to the Chesapeake. For the first time in years, he’d eaten breakfast, lunch, and dinner with them. But now duty beckoned, and it was time to prepare for another land-bound, Skull-infested mission in the wasteland the United States had become.

“Captain,” Meredith greeted him on their way from the mess hall to the electronics workshop. Her formal greeting was paired with a saucy smile, and Dom answered it with a grin. She walked side by side with him, striding down the passageway. “Thought I’d catch you with Sadie and Kara.”

“Me, too.” Dom forced a laugh. “Thing is, seems like Kara is pretty damned focused on those molecular simulations. Even when we’re together, it seems like that’s the only thing she talks about. She’s determined to find a cure.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Meredith offered a wry grin. Their boots tapped along the metal deck, punctuating the silence between them for several steps.

“Look, Meredith—”

“You’re not about to warn me off from another mission, are you?”

Dom held up his hands in a placating gesture. “No, I know better than that.” He paused in the passageway. “I just wanted to say that it’s...nice, having you by my side.”

“That isn’t the word I’d normally use to describe anything in a world filled with bloodthirsty monsters. But I’m certainly thankful to be facing it with you.”

“It’s good to be partners again, out in the field.”

“The feeling’s mutual. Better than being Charlie to your Angels.”

Dom chortled. “I’m not much of an angel, huh?”

“A bit rough around the edges.” Meredith gave him a playful look. “But I’ll take what I can get.” Her spirited expression faded, and she glanced sideways down the passageway. “Do you have a minute? There’s something I want to talk about.”

Dom glanced at his smartwatch. “We’ve got an hour before the briefing, and I still need to go over the data package Kinsey sent us.”

“This won’t be long.” Meredith nodded at the hatch to her quarters.

Dom raised an eyebrow but followed her in. She shut the hatch after he entered. Her quarters were almost bare. A solitary pack rested in one corner. On her foldaway desk, a laptop and two open books rested. “Like what you’ve done with the place.”

“Left all my Picassos in Virginia.”

“Oh, come on, I know you better than that. You aren’t exactly the abstract type. Photorealism is more your taste.”

“True,” Meredith said. “But back in the day, a certain field agent gave me a print of ‘The Old Guitarist.’”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that. But you kept it?”

“You think I’d toss something you gave me?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

Dom brushed her red hair back, tucking it behind her ear, and leaned in. Their lips met, and Meredith’s back arched. He tightened his arms around her waist, and they pressed their bodies close, heat radiating off each other. All the pent-up frustrations of dealing with Kinsey and managing the Huntress seemed to fade for a moment. Meredith’s hands caressed his back, sending tingles through his skin. They parted slowly, his palms still on her lower back.

Meredith’s eyes opened slowly, and she let out a long sigh. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Damn shame I can’t just move the briefing back.”

“Eh, just tell Kinsey we’re not coming after all. In fact, tell him he can shove the whole mission up his ass. He’s probably hoping the Skulls eat us all so he doesn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

Dom shook his head. Her gallows humor probably wasn’t too far off from the truth.

Meredith pulled away. Her hands traced down his shoulders, his arms, then his fingers. She laced her hands with his. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Kinsey?”

“Right,” Meredith said. “I don’t like being the spearhead in a mission where he holds all the cards. He gives us the data and vague promises of reinforcements and support. Tells us when and where to go.”

“You’re saying we shouldn’t trust him.”

“We need to be careful.”

“Sounds about the same to me.” Dom let go of her and took a step back.

“Whatever it sounds like, we’re being used.”

“Being used?” Dom huffed. “Meredith, what do you really think our relationship was when you were at the CIA? We took missions from you. We did the CIA’s dirty work.”

“I know, but that was...different. You had a choice.”

“And we have a choice now. I’m choosing to help our country.” He could feel his face growing red, and the heat had nothing to do with Meredith’s proximity. “Besides, if this is what it takes to ally ourselves with what’s left of the government, then it has to be done. We need to earn Kinsey’s trust, regardless of whether we trust him. Not only do we prove our usefulness, but it also gives us a direct hand on the tiller. We can help guide the future of this country.”

Meredith blinked and leaned slightly away from him. “That sounds like a power play, Dom.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He gestured to her, then himself. “You, me. This crew. We can’t save the goddamned world on our own. We need someone with more influence, with more resources than us.”

“And you think Kinsey’s it?”

“I think Kinsey is all we’ve got.”

“That’s a lot of praying and hoping. You seem to have a lot more faith in this general than he has in us.”

“I understand your skepticism,” Dom said, placing a hand against the bulkhead. “But damn it, we’re caught in between a rock and hard place, and there are goddamn Skulls, Droolers, and Goliaths in there with us. We don’t have time to collect months’ worth of intel on the man or his motives. You’re not in the CIA anymore, Meredith. This new world moves fast.”

Meredith’s lips tightened into a thin, white line. Her face was almost as red as her hair. “Okay, Captain Holland,” she said. “It’s your ship, your crew. Your mission. I’m not trying to instigate a mutiny here, but I thought I needed to voice my concern.”

“Noted,” Dom said. He couldn’t stand to see the anger in her eyes or hear the coldness in her voice, but he had to be a leader first. If that meant that their fledging romance never got off the ground, then it was a sacrifice he could make. Not happily, but he would make it. “I appreciate your candidness with me, but the time for deliberation and indecision is long past. It’s time for action.”

-26-

––––––––

Meredith stood beside the other Hunters in the electronics workshop. It took all her strength and practice at hiding her emotions to stand there quietly, gazing with polite interest at Dom, when all she wanted to do was shake him until he saw sense. A bevy of monitors glowed before them with maps displaying DC, Bethesda, and a closer view of the NIH complex.

Dom paced beneath the screen. “General Kinsey has asked us to join him in what he’s calling Operation Salvage. The goal is to take back the NIH facilities in Bethesda. This will give the government access to clinical and research facilities adjacent to metro access. Kinsey assures us that another component of Operation Salvage is to secure and repower the area’s light rail system. By battening down individual metro stations, the military will have another way to safely shuttle civilians and military units between strategic points in the DC area. Most importantly, they’ll have direct access from the Pentagon to the NIH without resorting to ground or air transit, both of which have a tendency to attract swarms of Skulls.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Miguel said. “Damn things seem to love Frank’s chopper.”

Dom gave Miguel a cold stare, and the Hunter closed his mouth with a snap. Meredith felt a twinge of guilt—but also satisfaction. Apparently Dom felt just as lousy as she did after their fight.

“Our mission will be to secure the Vaccine Production Program Lab,” he continued. “We need this lab and its facilities. Without the ability to mass-produce a vaccine, it doesn’t matter what Lauren’s team finds.”

Dom gestured to Chao, and the comm specialist magnified the image of the NIH complex. He pointed to one of the buildings. “Here’s our mission. For all intents and purposes, we can ignore the rest of the complex. Kinsey’s reports indicate minimal Skull activity within the facilities. Most of the non-critical staff was evacuated during the outbreak. Prior to the outbreak, the NIH maintained strict security measures, and the walls and fences along the perimeter appear to still be intact.”

Dom scanned their faces, his expression stern. “Make no mistake. We’ll be on high alert as always.” He glanced at Meredith and caught her eye. “And this is the first time we’re embarking on a joint mission. We’re used to working alone, but now we’re lucky to be working directly with the US military. However, please use caution. Not only caution in regards to the Skulls, but also with the people we’re working with. We have no idea how well these units can handle the Skulls.

“But I’ve fought beside each and every one of you. I’d trust any of you with my life, and I hope the feeling is mutual. At the end of the day, if everything goes to shit, you know who you can rely on.”

The Hunters murmured their agreement.

“Kinsey might be using us as his vanguard, but that doesn’t mean we should let down our guard. Frank will be nearby, ready for an immediate evac should we need it.”

Dom nodded to Chao, and the map of the VPPL switched to one of another building. It appeared to be five stories with sheer glass walls and white support structures. “This is the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke. The NINDS may contain research to complement the work we salvaged from Boston. Kinsey’s men aren’t trained to recognize or appreciate biomedical research. He’s requested one of our Hunters join a group of Marines infiltrating the NINDS. He believes it would be an asset to his team to ensure no vital research or facility is destroyed or left behind in this initial operation.”

Renee cleared her throat. “He wants just one of us? Are we really going to let one of our own go out there alone?”

“That’s what he wants,” Dom said. “But that’s not how we operate. We watch each other’s backs. I’m asking for two volunteers willing to go with the Marines.”

Meredith’s hand shot up. Of the Hunters, she was the newest. They all had served years together. She figured she’d be the least missed on the team.

“And I’ll be her second,” Andris said, winking at Meredith. “We make a good team.”

“Good,” Dom said. “Keep her safe.”

The corners of Andris’s lips twitched up in a smirk. “Ah, if our mission’s anything like Boston, she’ll be the one keeping me safe.”

“Meredith, Andris, the AW109 can’t take all of us, so Kinsey’s sending a Huey to pick you up. Everyone else, prepare to load up in two hours. Dismissed!”

The Hunters filed out, rushing toward their quarters and the armory. Meredith followed, Andris falling in beside her.

“You spoke to Dom about what we talked about before?” he asked.

“I tried.”

“Didn’t go well?”

“Could’ve gone better.”

Andris shrugged as he opened the hatch to the armory. “At least he heard our concerns. For now, the best thing we can do is kick some Skull ass.”

“You got that right, partner.”

Meredith loaded her magazines and rechecked her rifle, making sure everything was in working order. She adjusted the chin strap to her helmet and slung her weapon over her back. After performing a final check to ensure she had all her gear, she stood. Her nerves started to tingle as a wave of nervousness spread through her. She doubted she could ever get used to venturing back into Skull-infested territory no matter how many missions she went on. And this time, she was going with a group of strangers.

“Huey’s here!” Adam announced, poking his head into the armory.

Andris and Meredith followed him up the ladders to the helipad. Rotor wash greeted them when they reached the deck. Adam waved them toward the gray Huey near the stern, and Meredith sprinted low and hopped into the open side door.

A group of four Marines acknowledged with slight nods, and one slammed the door shut. The chopper ascended, giving Meredith little time to situate herself in a seat or secure her harness. She stole a final glance at the Huntress as they sped away. Dom had joined Adam on the top deck, standing stoically as he watched the Huey ascend. A moment later, they banked sharply to the left, and she lost sight of the Huntress and her captain.

One of the Marines handed her a mic and earpiece. She stuck the earpiece in place and secured the throat mic. Andris did likewise. The roar of the Huey’s engine continued, but at least now they could hear the voices of the Marines in the cabin.

One square-jawed man reached out a gloved hand. “Sergeant Ford.” He gestured to the other three. “Rollins, Evans, and Grant.”

The Marines nodded, and Meredith tried to pick out a distinguishing feature to keep them straight in her mind. Rollins had a heavy five o’clock shadow, Evans was the one with the black plastic-framed 5A glasses, and Grant had a thin mustache.

“Meredith Webb,” she said. “And this is Andris Jansons.”

Sergeant Ford surveyed them. “Webb, you ever served?”

“I was an operative for the CIA.”

“CIA? Really?” Ford didn’t sound impressed. He let out an audible sigh and shared a look of dismay with the others. “What about you, Jansons?”

“French Foreign Legion.”

“Damn.” Ford huffed. “Listen to that accent, too. So we get a desk jockey and some Ruskie who served in an army trained to drop their weapons and run. This is just fucking great.”

Andris fumed, his fingers clenching into fists. “I’m no Russian.” He jabbed a finger at Ford. The muscles in his jaw tensed, and Meredith shot him a look imploring him to restrain himself. Andris let out a breath, seeming to understand her message, and sank back into his seat.

“Whatever you are,” Ford said, “you two aren’t exactly what we were promised. When your Captain said we had to take two of you, I was pissed. But now it looks like two of you weren’t enough.”

Meredith wondered what she’d gotten herself into, wondered if it was a mistake to have volunteered for this. But she’d dealt with worse through her career. The CIA had its share of macho windbags like Ford. Her skills and leadership had been scrutinized time and time again by her superiors. She glanced out the fuselage window as the Huntress turned to a silver speck on the horizon. There was nothing she could say to convince these men that they were fully equipped, both physically and mentally, to deal with the Skulls. It would be up to her and Andris to show them.

***

Bethesda, once known for its prosperity and for housing world-renowned research institutions, now looked like a war zone. Ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars sat useless among military vehicles that had been left behind in the retreat. The entire highway system surrounding the area had been congested by more traffic than Dom had ever seen here during the worst of rush hours. He doubted many had made it successfully out of the city. More likely the vehicles clogging the roadways served as tombs for their occupants.

“Ford’s group is landing near the NINDs,” Frank reported over the comm link. “Reporting minimal resistance.”

“Good to hear,” Dom said.

The chopper began its descent to the NIH. Dom held his binos up. “We’ve got half a dozen contacts converging on our LZ.”

“On your orders, Captain,” Frank said.

“We’re still a go. Six Skulls are no problem.”

The wheels hit the parking lot hard, and Miguel slid back a side door. The six Skulls howled, piercing the growl of the chopper’s engines. Their muscles rippled under the plates covering their limbs and torsos. Several had jagged fins along their spines, and all displayed daggerlike claws, ready to tear into their prey.

Miguel leapt from the chopper first and laid down a heavy stream of fire. Dom exited hard on his heels. Renee joined them, followed by Jenna and Spencer. Glenn exited last and slammed the door shut.

“Here if you need me, Captain,” Frank said as the chopper ascended.

“To the VPPL!” Dom said, catching one of the charging monsters in his sights. He squeezed the trigger. Fragments of bony armor splintered. The Skull was knocked back by the gunfire—but it didn’t stay down.

The monster pushed itself to its feet and continued its frenzied dash. It pounced on top of a sedan and then jumped off, its feet clicking against the asphalt. Its bony armor rattled as Dom fired on it again.

“What the hell?” Jenna said, spraying lead into another Skull. “AP rounds are hardly doing shit!”

“Their armor is strong as fuck!” Miguel yelled.

Dom readjusted his aim, trying to take one of the creatures down. These things must’ve had plenty of food to feast on and more than enough time to support the growth of their organic body armor. Against foes like these, his team had lost the advantage they’d once had with the armor-piercing rounds.

Sparks flew from the asphalt and the cars as bullets ricocheted around the Skulls. Dom’s target grew ever closer, ducking and swerving around his gunfire. Its lips curled in a menacing snarl, baring its fangs, and its crimson eyes glowed with fury. The sight frightened Dom, but a couple of quick trigger squeezes lanced gunfire through those ghoulish eyes. Tumbling forward, the Skull skidded along the asphalt. It left a trail of peeled flesh and red gore. More gunfire chattered across the campus, echoing between buildings. More Skull howls continued to join the growing chorus.

Other choppers landed, dropping off the support Kinsey had promised. A few hovered above as their side door gunners swept M240s back and forth, sending salvos into the churning Skulls.

The last of the half dozen assaulting Dom’s crew went down in a hail of fire.

“Miguel, point!” Dom yelled.

The Hunters ran to a shuttle bus with broken windows. Shards of glass sparkled next to it and crunched under their boots like ice. From there they spread out and covered each other. They made it through the parking lot toward the VPPL one car at a time.

Another wail rent the air. A pair of Skulls careened from a trailer parked in a loading dock. The Hunters fired on the creatures. But the Skulls quickly hid. They scrambled between cars, their howls rising up over the lot and their claws scraping all the while.

“Can’t get a shot on ‘em!” Glenn shouted.

Spencer fired round after round. The bullets plunged into the cars as the Skulls skittered along.

Dom sprinted to flank the creatures, with Miguel hot on his tail. With the monsters’ focus on the others, he found a clear firing lane directly into their sides. He and Miguel sent a volley of fire. Spent cases pinged against the asphalt, and rounds slammed into the creatures, knocking them from their trajectory.

They twisted, snarling and spitting. A bullet caught one in its underarm, and blood seeped from the wound, drizzling over its bony protrusions. Bending low, the monsters turned their focus from the others and barreled straight at Dom and Miguel.

“Well, shit, Chief!” Miguel reloaded his rifle, gritting his teeth. “That didn’t work as planned!”

Dom tried to beat the two monsters back with gunfire. But again their heavy armor withstood the storm of lead. Bone chipped and cracked, but not quickly enough. Dom started backing away, firing all the while. Miguel mirrored his actions. A bullet finally caught one of the creatures through its nasal cavity. Its head whipped back in a spray of crimson, and its body crumpled.

The other ignored it. With its claws slicing through the air, the Skull jumped and landed in front of Dom. It knocked the rifle’s barrel aside and kicked Miguel backward. The Hunter crashed into the hood of an SUV. Dom wanted to see if Miguel was okay, but all his energy was focused on parrying the Skull’s blows with his rifle. Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. The monster screamed, and saliva sprayed across Dom’s face. Its claws connected with his rifle again and again. Metal against bone. Dom spent more time defending himself than delivering blows. Vaguely, he could hear the sound of his other Hunters yelling and their rifles chattering. More Skulls. More deafening howls.

The Skull battering him hissed. Its face shot forward, snapping at him desperately. Dom finally hammered the stock of his rifle into the creature’s jaw. Its mouth closed with a sickening crunch. A moment later, broken shards of teeth trickled out when it roared. Dom hit it again, and the Skull staggered, dazed. Again and again, he pummeled it. It reared back, its claws outstretched, but it never got a chance to strike.

The creature went suddenly still. Blood poured from its mouth, and its eyes rolled back. Miguel peered out from behind it, pulling his blade from the back of the monster’s skull. Its body fell forward.

“You’re welcome,” Miguel said, his characteristic shit-eating grin plastered across his face. But the expression faded almost immediately. “Drooler!”

Twisting, Dom saw the abomination clamber onto a nearby minivan. Dark reddish-brown liquid oozed from the gashes in its throat and dripped from the remains of its mutilated jaw. Its gargling grew louder until a geyser of acidic bile sprayed from its mouth. Dom jumped, rolled, and picked up his rifle. Miguel held the Skull he’d just killed before him like a shield. The Drooler’s acid spray splattered against the bony armor of the Skull, dissolving it into a sizzling mess. In one swift movement, Dom shouldered his rifle and aimed at the Drooler’s head. He sent a wave of gunfire into the creature, knocking it back. Acid sprayed wildly as the monster’s body twitched in the throes of death. Dom ducked behind a sedan. Specks of the acid spray smacked against the lawn bordering the parking lot. Where the bile hit, the grass withered almost instantaneously. The beast’s limbs settled, and the dark liquid mixed with its own blood and pooled around its carcass. Dom shoved the mutilated remains of the other Skull off Miguel.

The Hunter looked up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head back and forth slowly. “Holy shit, that was close.” He locked his gaze with Dom’s. They both caught their breath. “Those things are fucked up.”

Dom lent a hand and helped Miguel to his feet.

“You see what that thing did to the other Skull?”

“Yep,” Dom said, shouldering his rifle. He played his barrel across the parking lot and covered the others. They brought down a handful of other Skulls. The gunfire quieted momentarily, and the Hunters started making their way to Dom.

Miguel was still staring at the heap of smoking flesh and gristle that had once been a Skull. “The acid turned this fucker into Jell-O,” he said.

Dom nodded. “I think we may have found ourselves a new weapon.”

-27-

––––––––

It was almost a relief to hear the click of keys in the lock and the handle turning on the door. Shepherd couldn’t tell if he had passed out for thirty minutes or two hours or half of a day. Regardless, maybe he’d get some answers now.

“Stand.”

Shepherd did as commanded. Rough hands grabbed his elbows and guided him out of the cell. The door slammed shut, and once again he was led blind through an underground complex. The chilling air bit at his skin, and he couldn’t help shivering. Door hinges squeaked, and Shepherd was shoved forward. Hands pressed him into a seat, and someone tore off the bag from his head. He blinked as his eyes slowly adjusted to the harsh fluorescent light.

A man sat across from him at a table. His hands were folded together, and he stared at Shepherd through the mirrored lenses of a pair of aviator sunglasses. His dark hair was cut short in typical military fashion, but instead of an ACU, he wore an expensive-looking suit. Behind him was what Shepherd presumed to be a one-way mirror.

“Tell me everything you know about the Amanojaku Project,” the man said.

“Who are you?” Shepherd asked.

“Name’s not important. But if you need one”—he paused—“call me the Judge.”

“Fort Detrick needs me,” Shepherd said. “Why in the hell did you bring me here?”

The Judge stood and paced back and forth with his hands clenched behind his back. His polished shoes tapped on the concrete floor. Abruptly, he stopped and slammed his palms on the table. “Tell me what you know about the Amanojaku project!”

Shepherd was taken aback but maintained his composure. “Tell me who the fuck you are and who you’re working for. Then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Who I’m working for? Who are you working for?”

Shepherd could feel the man’s icy gaze behind the aviators. “I work for the United States government, the goddamn US Army.”

The Judge raised an eyebrow that barely peeked above the aviators. “That’s the story you’re going with?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Kinsey says differently.”

Shepherd’s stomach twisted. “Where’s the general? Did you people do something to him?”

The Judge laughed. “Kinsey is just fine. In fact, you’re here at his request.”

Doing everything in his power to control his boiling anger, Shepherd gritted his teeth. “Prove to me you work for the United States.”

The Judge depressed a small button over an intercom speaker on the wall. “Shades up.”

The one-way mirror became completely translucent. Behind the window, two men in their class A dress uniforms stood beside another couple of men in black suits that matched the Judge’s.

“You see Colonel Harvey Johnson and Brigadier General William Gould are in attendance.”

Shepherd gaped at the two Army leaders until the Judge ordered the one-way mirror reverted and once again, Shepherd was looking at his own reflection. But he’d recognized Johnson. The man had grown famous—or at least infamous—for his special forces operational detachment called Gamma Force. Brigadier General Gould had supported the creation of Gamma Force and their high-risk missions against the likes of ISIS and other insurrection-borne terrorist groups.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Shepherd asked.

“Not your concern.”

“How do I know they aren’t being held prisoner like me?”

“I don’t have anything to prove to you. I’m the Judge, and you’re the lying sack of shit.”

“I’m not saying anything. For all I know, you’re the enemy.”

“We’re not the enemy.” The Judge paused. “Then again, depending on your allegiance, maybe things aren’t so clear cut.” The Judge sat again. “I’m getting those answers from you regardless of what’s going on in that twisted little mind of yours. Now tell me what you know about the Amanojaku Project.”

Shepherd kept his lips shut tight. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew how to handle himself in a scenario like this one. Then again, he’d never trained for when the hostile forces interrogating a prisoner were his own goddamn comrades.

“All right, that’s how you want this to work.” The Judge turned to the one-way mirror and beckoned.

The door opened a moment later. The two men in suits wheeled a large wooden table between them. One started adjusting the table until it was sloped at fifteen degrees. There were two metal rings at one end of the table and another two along the sides. He unlatched them.

Shepherd couldn’t help the hammering in his heart. He knew what was about to happen. “You can’t do this to me! I’m a US citizen and a commander in the Army.”

The Judge stood, cracking his knuckles, and strolled to the intercom once more. One of the suited men deposited a bucket of water with a cloth draped over its handle near the entrance.

“That makes what you did so much worse,” the Judge said, his voice dripping with venom. “Treason, in a time like this, is absolutely despicable coming from a man in your position.”

“W-What the hell are you talking about?” Shepherd asked, his voice cracking. These men were insane. They were insane, and they were about to fucking waterboard him.

The Judge nodded to the two suits. They forced Shepherd to stand. They uncuffed him roughly and shoved him onto the table. He struggled and thrashed against their grip, but it didn’t do any good.

One elbowed Shepherd in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The suits took advantage of the moment and strapped Shepherd’s wrists into the metal rings. They snapped the other metal cuffs around his ankles.

Shepherd could feel the blood pooling in his head at that uncomfortable angle. “This is torture!”

The Judge pretended to look around the room. “I don’t see any torture.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at the door. The two suits exited, and the door slammed shut behind them. A metal partition dropped over the one-way mirror, ensuring no one saw into the chamber. The Judge dragged one of the wooden chairs to Shepherd’s side. He took his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of the chair. After rolling up his sleeves, he leaned over the bucket of water, dipped the cloth in, and wrung it out.

“Tell me everything you know about the Amanojaku project,” the Judge said.

“You first.”

The Judge didn’t say another word. Instead, he placed the wet cloth over Shepherd’s nose and mouth. Shepherd felt water begin to pour over the cloth. He gagged as the inescapable feeling of drowning threw his body into panic mode. His fingers clenched and unclenched. His legs kicked out. Vomit trickled from his stomach and into his esophagus, burning all the way. He fought against choking on it, coughing and gasping underneath the wet cloth.

And then the cloth was removed and the Judge kicked a lever on the table. It twisted so Shepherd was upright. Blood drained from his head, causing him to feel almost dizzy. His chest heaved as he sucked in air. But he had hardly caught his breath before the table slammed down again. The Judge pressed the cloth over his face, and his mouth opened desperately for air that wasn’t there.

Men from some special forces underwent training where they endured waterboarding to hone their resistance to interrogation. But even they admitted they’d buckled to the simulated sensation of drowning. Shepherd harbored no illusions he could do any better.

He tried to count the seconds, waiting in agony for it to end. Ten seconds...twenty...thirty...oh, God, when would it stop? Then he shot up, the cloth was removed, and he gulped down air again. One, two, three breaths, and down he went. Cloth, water. Suffocation. The Judge kicked the lever and let the table right itself once more. A mixture of sweat and water covered Shepherd’s face. His lungs burned. He tried to inhale as much sweet oxygen as he could. This time he breathed five, six, seven times. No more cloth. No more water.

“Tell me what you know about the Amanojaku Project.”

Shepherd coughed but said nothing.

“This can all be over. Just tell me what I want to know.”

Shepherd’s chest rose and fell. Shivers crept up and down his flesh, but all he said was, “Fuck...you.”

Down he went. His muscles screamed for oxygen, and he fought the overwhelming primitive instincts roiling in his mind. Even as his body struggled to stay alive, his mind began to wonder if it wouldn’t be better to give up, to let death take him. Shepherd rejected those thoughts. He willed himself to stay strong. Then he was given a few clean breaths before the torture began anew. The process repeated itself until Shepherd could no longer remember what it was the man in the sunglasses wanted from him. His entire body was shaking with uncontrollable tremors, but it felt strangely distant, detached.

Finally, he was left upright for ten, twenty, thirty seconds. The Judge stood and threw the cloth into the bucket. Shepherd flinched. The involuntary reaction snapped him back to sanity. He was terrified—not of his torturer and the inhumane waterboarding, but of the fact that he had almost broken. But he would not fail his duty or his country. “If...if you work for Kinsey, then why are you doing this? The general knows I’m not a traitor.”

The Judge laughed. “Me? Work for Kinsey?” He took off his aviators and slipped them into his pocket then leaned close. His blue eyes bore into Shepherd’s. “I don’t work for Kinsey. He works for me.”

***

Lauren couldn’t believe it. Navid had been right—all of their tests indicated the Goliaths had almost a hundred times more human growth hormones in their systems compared to a normal person. She printed off the latest results and showed them to Peter.

“Exactly what my ELISA results show,” he said.

Lauren shook her head in awe. “With that much HGH, it’s no wonder these things mutated and grew so quickly.”

“Right. Now that one mystery is out of the way. The bigger mystery is why it affects some Skulls and not others.”

Lauren drummed her gloved fingers on the lab bench. “Should we ask Miguel to pick us up the pituitary gland of a Goliath next time he’s out?” she asked with a smirk.

“Maybe he can bring back a whole Goliath. Give us a specimen for dissection.”

Lauren couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of trying to bring one of those monsters into their lab. “This is one step closer, but we still haven’t figured out what’s causing the pituitary gland to overproduce. I want to know why these things are turning into Goliaths and Droolers.”

“You’ve got that right,” Peter said. “Maybe our understanding of the Oni Agent isn’t as good as we thought.”

“You have no idea how much I hope you’re wrong.”

Peter offered a rueful smile. “Oh, I think I have some idea. So what next?”

“Why don’t you perform the mass spectrometry on the samples from the Droolers? I want to know what exactly is in that acid spray.” She glanced at Terrence. He was lying inert in one of the med bay’s beds. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and bandages covered his upper torso. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping, but a pained grimace still showed on his face. “Maybe we can at least come up with something the crew can use to defend themselves against that stuff.”

“Agreed,” Peter said. “It might be possible to create some type of polymer coating for the Hunters’ fatigues.”

“That’s the hope,” Lauren said. “I’m going to check on the vaccine simulation efforts.”

After exiting the laboratory, she walked between the hospital beds in the patients’ ward. She caught Navid’s gaze. “I could use an extra set of eyes. You want to help?”

“Sure, but I can’t do much pipetting or cell culture work.” He held up his splinted hand.

“Not a problem. I’ve got a different assignment for you.”

Lauren could almost sense the change in the young scientist’s spirits. Having some direction, having anything to give him purpose, might help him with the long journey through the grief and pain. She grabbed an extra laptop from a storage cabinet and led Navid to the mess hall. There, a hodgepodge of people sat at the tables. Each had a laptop before them. Kara worked beside Sadie. Divya and Sean stared intently at their screens. Other crew members between shifts or critical duties had stopped in for an hour or two of work. All strove for the same goal: finding a cure for the prions produced by the Oni Agent.

Kara especially seemed to be in a trance. She was hunched over, her face mere inches from her screen.

“Do you mind showing Navid how to use FoldIt?” Lauren placed the laptop in front of an empty seat next to Dom’s daughter.

Kara blinked as she tore her gaze from the computer. “Oh, sure thing.” She looked up at Lauren. Dark bags hung under her eyes, speaking to her dedication. “Some of these new molecules we got from Boston seem to be much closer. We’re getting much higher scores with fewer manipulations.”

“Yeah, I keep beating my personal best!” Sadie added.

“Good to hear,” Lauren said. “Thanks, everyone, for your hard work.”

A few people looked up and gave her nods or mumbles of acknowledgment before continuing their efforts. She left the mess hall, praying that the people here would be successful. After all, before the Oni pandemic, gamers had actually used FoldIt to help researchers uncover proteins related to HIV. Maybe they could actually do this.

But identifying a molecule wouldn’t be enough. They needed a larger laboratory and production facility like the VPPL at the NIH to bring this project to fruition. If the Hunters failed today, all her teams’ efforts wouldn’t matter. They had no other way to scale up the manufacture of a vaccine to help the survivors of the outbreak.

“Lauren!” Chao called urgently from the hatch to the electronics workshop.

She jogged toward Chao. “What’s going on?”

“Got a message from Dom. Says he needs your help!”

-28-

––––––––

Meredith fought to catch her breath. Sweat soaked the back of her shirt and the palms of her gloves. As she followed Sergeant Ford and the other Marines into the research facility, she took a final glance at the crumpled Skull corpses littering the lawn. Their LZ had been hot. Very hot. Judging by the persistent gunfire echoing across the NIH facilities, they weren’t the only ones that had been greeted by slashing talons and snapping fangs. It certainly hadn’t been the cakewalk Kinsey had promised. She, Andris, and the Marines had barely made it out unscathed. She hoped Dom and company had an easier time getting to the VPPL.

“On me!” Sergeant Ford commanded. Rollins, Evans, and Grant walked beside him, with Meredith and Andris bringing up the rear. Judging by their wide-eyed expressions, Meredith guessed they hadn’t had as much experience dealing with Skulls as they’d boasted of in the Huey.

“We’re going to start at the top and go room by room,” Ford said. “Make sure this place is clean, and round up any survivors.” He pointed at Andris and Meredith. “You two grab anything related to that proteins disease.”

Andris raised an eyebrow. “Prions?”

“Whatever the fuck it is, I don’t care. That’s why we’ve got you two. Now let’s go!”

The team prowled through the hallway. Meredith stepped over a fallen filing cabinet. Its contents were spilled over the floor, and specks of dark brown marred the papers. She knew immediately it was dried blood. She’d had enough field experience in scenes like these since joining up with Dom to recognize it when she saw it.

At a four-way intersection, Ford and Rollins covered the passageways to their left and right. They reached a door at the end of the hallway. As they neared it, Meredith noticed bloody streaks across the small glass window in the door. Ford shot a few quick hand signals to his men, and they formed a semicircle around the door. On his count, Evans burst through, with the other three quickly following. The rattle of bones clicking across the floor sent Meredith’s heart beating wildly.

But Evans pronounced it clear a moment later. She and Andris stepped into the stairwell. A pile of vertebrae, femurs, clavicles, and hollowed-out skulls lay scattered across the floor.

“This some kind of fucking tomb?” Grant asked.

“Not a tomb,” Meredith said. “More like a feeding chamber.”

Ford gave her skeptical look but said nothing. The group continued up the stairs, all the way to the top.

“Intel says the three labs on our left are most likely to have what you’re looking for,” Ford said.

“Understood,” Meredith said.

They entered the hall. With each step they took, she expected the screams of the Skulls to explode around them. A quick flick of the handle, and Evans led them through the first door. The group rapidly filed in behind him and spread out, guns bristling.

“This ain’t no lab,” Rollins said.

It didn’t take Meredith’s expertise in biology and chemistry to know that Rollins was right. A refrigerator sat against one wall. Its door was wide open. A few moldy plastic containers sat on its shelves. Next to it was a counter with a sink. Plastic wrappers from candy, chips, and other snacks were scattered across the carpeted floor. Three vending machines were on another side of the room. One had been tipped over. The glass panel of the second was broken, and shards sparkled on the floor around it. In the middle of the room were two tables with chairs strewn haphazardly around them.

“This isn’t right.” Ford’s brow furrowed, and he dug into his pocket. He pulled out a folded-up sheet of paper and started examining it. “Goddamned intel.”

The team spread out around the apparent breakroom as Ford checked the map, exploring the small, apparently empty space.

“The hell...” Evans said, his voice trailing off. Meredith turned to see him nudge open a door leading to a small bathroom. A figure in a hooded sweatshirt swayed, side to side. Evans lowered his rifle and reached to grab the person’s shoulder.

But Meredith could already see the bumps and protrusions under the baggy sweatshirt. “Don’t!”

It was too late. The figure spun to face Evans. Its lips parted in a snarl, and it pounced.

Evans tried to raise his gun, but the monster swatted it away. It bore down on him in a flash of flying claws, snapping teeth, and flailing limbs.

“Fuck!” Evans said, his glasses flying from his face. “Help, help!”

He fell with the frenzied Skull slashing madly at his neck and chest. Its claws dug into his skin, and a sudden spray of blood painted the wall. Meredith tried to train her rifle on the Skull, but she couldn’t get a clear shot in the tumbling mess of man and beast. Instead, she sprinted at the monster and leveled a kick at its head. The impact knocked the creature away from Evans momentarily, and Andris got off a couple of quick shots. The rounds tore through the Skull’s sweatshirt and clunked into the heavy armor beneath the cloth.

“God, oh, God!” Evans rolled on the floor and clutched his face. Blood trickled between his fingers. “Help me!”

The Skull growled and ran at Meredith. Blood seeped from the holes in its armor and started to soak the sweatshirt. Two of the Marines fired. Fragments of its armor flew off, but the creature continued full tilt. It leapt at Meredith. She dodged, but one of the Skull’s outstretched claws grabbed the back of her tac vest. She crashed into a table. Pain shot up her tailbone and into her spine.

More gunfire barked. It was deafening in the small room. The Skull was far too nimble and shielded its face from the rounds. It crouched. Its limbs trembled. With a sudden wail, it careened toward Meredith. Blood spat from its mouth. Still on her back, she rolled to avoid its attack.

“Hit it in the face, you sons of bitches!” she yelled at the Marines.

The Skull jumped at her again, and the gunfire ceased altogether. It was behind her now, putting Meredith in the line of fire. Even these Marines wouldn’t shoot her to bring down the Skull. Meredith tried to fake the Skull out and dodge to the side, but it was too quick. An adept predator, it seemed to sense her moves before she made them. There would be no easy way around the creature.

Evans continued screaming, his voice growing louder and shakier. A few distant howls answered.

“Shut him up!” she ordered.

The Skull let out another low growl. Its claws cut through the air, desperate to meet Meredith’s flesh. Her strength flagged as she tried to parry and dodge each blow. She tripped over a broken chair and fell again. The Skull lunged. Meredith used her rifle to bat away its claws. Her muscles were strained. Adrenaline poured through her, but even its effects couldn’t assuage the pain radiating through her back or compete with the monster’s unbearable strength.

In her periphery, she saw Andris creep behind the Skull. Just as she thought her arms would give out, the Skull stopped its assault. She thought she could almost see a look of surprise in its eyes as Andris maneuvered a knife between the bone plates and sliced into the Skull’s carotid. Arterial blood poured over its hooded sweatshirt, and Andris shoved the monster backward. A puddle formed around its twitching, dying body.

“Thanks,” Meredith said.

“No problem. Got that move from you.”

Nearby, Evans moaned. Rollins and Grant were pressing blood-soaked cloths to his wounds, but they didn’t seem to be doing much good.

“Here.” Meredith dug into her pocket and pulled out a small packet. “Hemostatic gel. Needs to be applied directly to the wound.”

Rollins and Grant looked at her, uncertainty painted across their faces.

“He’s going to bleed out!” Meredith said. “Look at him, he’s going into shock.”

Ford waved his men away. “Let her work.”

The two Marines left the makeshift bandages and backed up. Meredith peeled the soaked cloths back and examined the wreckage of the man’s face, looking for the source of the bleeding. One eye was swollen over. The other...Meredith almost retched. The other was no longer there.

She sprinkled some of the hemostatic gel in Evans’s eye socket. Almost immediately the gel swelled, soaking up blood and setting off a clotting cascade at the molecular level. The bleeding would be staunched so long as the gel remained undisturbed. She found two more cuts, a deep laceration along his scalp and one under his chin, and applied more of the hemostatic gel. The bleeding slowed to a trickle. The gel would keep Evans alive—for now.

“He needs a medic,” Meredith said. “This won’t hold forever.”

Evans’s vague murmuring devolved into agonized groans once more. The cries of the Skulls in the building seemed to be growing closer. Ford stared at his map then at Rollins and Grant. Footsteps echoed in the hall.

“The fuck are we doing?” Rollins asked, his voice rising.

Meredith rushed to the door. She wouldn’t wait for the squad leader to make a decision. Waiting was deadly when dealing with Skulls. The clatter of bones against tiles became louder. Meredith knew trying to wait it out behind a closed door was as good as a death sentence. More and more Skulls would continue to pile up outside the breakroom, desperate to break in.

She leaned around the corner with her rifle leveled and ready for the first Skull to make its way around the corner. Andris mirrored her actions, facing the other direction.

“Salvage Command, this is Foxtrot One, we’ve got a man down,” Ford said. “I repeat, Foxtrot One, we’ve got a man down.”

A bloodcurdling wail hurtled through the halls. A Skull sprinted around the corner. Carried by momentum, it collided with a wall and fell. The monster’s eyes went wide when it spotted Meredith, and the spikes along its spine seemed to flex. Frenzied by its hunger, it ran at Meredith in a loping gait on all fours. She caught the monster’s head in her sights and pulled the trigger. But the Skull’s bobbing head made it a difficult target. The rounds went wide and ricocheted off the floor. She played her muzzle across the beast as it closed in and let off another volley. This time the monster tumbled headfirst and flopped. It sprawled across the floor. Its body slid, leaving a trail of blood.

Behind her, Andris’s rifle chattered. Spent cases pinged off the walls and floors. Meredith had no time to gauge how well Andris was holding off the creatures from his side. Another two Skulls barreled at her, their bodies hunched and their claws spread. Her heart hammered while she brought the first down with a wild spray of gunfire. Rounds clattered against the second Skull’s armor, but it carried on almost unperturbed. Her shots inched up the monster’s body, forming craters in its organic plates. At a mere six yards from her position, a bullet crashed through its orbital lobe and plunged into the thing’s brain. Inertia carried the monster’s corpse past her, and the Skull came to rest near Andris’s feet.

The Hunter glanced at the monster, then Meredith. “Too damn close.” Four Skulls were sprawled in various positions along his end of the corridor. “Mind keeping them on your side of the hall?”

“Command, this is Foxtrot One, do you read?” Ford’s face was scrunched in concentration. Rollins and Grant stared at him as they tried to help Evans. He’d started bleeding again despite Meredith’s efforts with the hemostatic gel. Ford’s features relaxed. “Goddammit, Command. Took long enough. We’ve got a man in need of a medical evac.”

He nodded at the incoming transmission. His jaw dropped slightly, and he looked at Meredith before quickly turning away. “Yes, confirmed.” Another beat of silence. “Yes, we can bring the target to you.”

“Catch that?” Andris whispered.

Meredith nodded, trying to appear inconspicuous. She didn’t like the look Ford had given her.

“Remember when I told you about the Foreign Legion?”

Again, Meredith nodded. She understood the underlying message behind Andris’s statement. It wasn’t the Legion he was concerned with, but rather his distrust for those outside the Huntress serving their own agendas.

“Mission’s changed!” Ford said. “Command says we’re getting the fuck out of here. Get Evans to the med evac at the original LZ.”

Rollins and Grant hoisted their fallen comrade. Each of them took one of his arms over their shoulder. They followed Ford’s lead into the hall.

“Russian, you’re on point,” Ford said.

“Latvian,” Andris said under his breath. He led the group back the way they’d come.

Meredith followed him closely. She disliked having Ford behind her, especially with a gun. As they reached the stairwell, a Skull burst from it. Andris dispatched it with a quick burst. In response to his gunfire, a chorus of loud yells echoed through the halls.

“Fuck! They’re behind us!” Rollins said.

Ford turned to fire on the incoming Skulls. More and more rounded the corner, mobbing the hallway. “Go, go, go!”

The group rushed down the stairs and spilled into the lobby of the building. The din of the pursuing Skulls chased after them as they plunged back into the daylight. They ran through the battlefield of cars and corpses in the parking lot. More roars and gunfire erupted across the NIH campus. Skulls clambered out of the NINDS building. Their mission had been a complete waste of time and resources. She and Andris would’ve been better off sticking with Dom and the Hunters. These Marines were sloppy, inexperienced, and strangely hostile. But blaming them wouldn’t stop the mob of Skulls now scrambling over the bodies of other fallen creatures and the burned-out vehicles. At least twenty of the monsters were after them.

The rhythmic churn of chopper blades beating the air brought her some relief. A Huey descended to a small patch of open lawn. They just needed to get Evans a couple dozen more yards, and he’d be in the medics’ hands. The side doors of the chopper opened, and two Marines exited. They fired into the crowd of chasing Skulls. The door gunner swept an M240 back and forth. Bullets hummed overhead and then chewed into the monsters.

The small contingency of reinforcements was enough to temporarily hold back the onslaught. Two medics rushed out to meet the group. They took Evans and lifted him into the chopper. Meredith and Andris joined the other Marines in providing cover fire.

Meredith caught one Skull in her sights. She squeezed the trigger and watched rounds slam into its torso. Pockmarks and fractures formed in its armor, but it ignored the injuries and kept coming. The armor-piercing rounds just weren’t enough anymore. It took a head shot to finally bring the monster to its knees, still howling as blood gurgled from its mouth, and a second to finish it completely.

The head shots became increasingly difficult as adrenaline plunged through Meredith and caused her limbs to tremble. Her nerves were fried. The beasts seemed harder and harder to kill. She plugged away at the Skulls with round after round as they continued to ooze from the NINDs building. Some, attracted by the intense gunfire and screams of their brethren, broke through the windows and doors of neighboring buildings.

To the Marines’ credit, Meredith noted they didn’t turn tail and evac Evans immediately. Instead the door gunner continued to lay down a relentless barrage of gunfire. Ford and his two remaining men took careful shots, conserving their ammunition. Skulls piled up, their limbs tangled and bleeding.

The gunfire quieted. Meredith spotted a clawed hand reaching out from a jumble of Skulls. One of the monsters pulled itself from under the pile. Its left leg dragged behind its body uselessly. It tried to stand but quivered and fell. Meredith played her barrel across its ugly maw. Its eyes caught hers, and she fired. The Skull dropped back into the dirt, weeping blood.

Meredith used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead. Andris scanned the lawn and the parking lot then lowered his rifle.

Ford jerked his chin at them. “Load up!”

Andris gestured to the dead Skulls. “We cleared the fuckers out. Shouldn’t we at least go back and finished what we started?”

“You heard your orders.”

“Is someone else going to do our job for us?” Meredith asked. “Why are we bailing out in the middle of a mission?”

Rollins and Grant sidled up to Ford. Their fingers tensed around their rifles. Ford’s eyes narrowed. He glanced between Andris and Meredith. “Command says we’re moving, I say we’re moving, then we’re fucking moving!”

“Why the sudden change?” Andris said. “It makes no sense. We’ll be fine without Evans.”

“It’s not about Evans,” Ford said through gritted teeth. He stared hard at Meredith. “It’s about—” He stopped himself, and she wondered what he’d been about to say. “Let’s move.”

“Give us a reason why,” Meredith said. “At least tell us where we’re going.”

Ford lifted one hand, and Grant and Rollins brought their rifles up. They aimed at Meredith and Andris.

“You heard your orders,” Ford repeated, his eyes never leaving Meredith. “Apparently, you made things much easier for Command by splitting up from your little band of vigilantes. So let’s make it even easier by coming along now.”

Meredith sagged as everything started to make sense. Her whistleblowing at the CIA had finally caught up to her. She’d been playing with fire by joining a mission under Kinsey’s command. He must have ties to whatever was left of the CIA. She’d been so worried about Dom placing his trust in Kinsey that she’d neglected to worry about herself.

And now, she’d pay the penalty for letting her guard down.

Ford leveled his gun at Meredith’s chest. “Drop your goddamned weapons.”

-29-

––––––––

Dom gathered his team inside the vast atrium of the VPPL. Bullet holes marred what would otherwise be an impressive set of windows stretching almost three stories high. Warm sunlight poured over them and illuminated floating dust motes. Only the tap of the Hunters’ boots on the marble floors broke the silence. The space evoked a strange, if fleeting, sense of serenity. Dom also felt grateful; for once they were operating in a building that wasn’t a maze of narrow hallways and small rooms.

“Dom, Lauren here,” the doctor’s voice said over the comm link. “Got your message about the Droolers. Peter and I ran some analyses.”

Dom made a few swift hand gestures. His team spread out and took positions behind the large reception counter and the neighboring benches. “What’d you find?”

“It’s a hyper-concentrated substance consisting mostly of hydrochloric acid—that’s also the main component of stomach acid.”

“Concentrated enough to eat through Skull armor?” Dom asked.

“My thoughts exactly. The acid would have no problem dissolving flesh and bone.”

“Any way we can protect ourselves against it?” Dom asked, thinking of how the spray had eaten through Terrence’s fatigues and into his skin.

“We’re working on it.”

“Good. Is there some way to use the stuff against the Skulls?”

Lauren paused. “I’m into medicine, not weapons. But I’ll pass on the request to the workshop. Chao and the gang might have better ideas.”

“Good plan. Get on it ASAP, okay?”

He expected the line to go quiet, but Lauren continued. “Dom, be vigilant out there. Peter and I were able to find out what’s causing the Goliath mutations, but we don’t know why it’s happening. The Oni Agent might be doing things to the bodies we never predicted.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Dom said. Lauren ended the call, and he turned to his team. “Hunters, on me. The main production facilities are through that corridor.” He nodded to indicate the wide hall.

The group prowled in a tight formation. They passed by walls filled with photographs documenting the research and continuous development of the VPPL over the decades. All that seemed meaningless now. Thousands of years of human advancement, derailed by a single, terrible event. The distant sounds of gunfire and screaming Skulls seemed never-ending. Dom thought briefly of Meredith and hoped she wasn’t in the midst of the fighting. If something happened to her out here before he had a chance to talk to her again...he shook the thought away. His priority now was keeping himself and his team alive so they could clear the facility.

A scraping sound broke the quiet. Several of the Hunters swiveled and trained their weapons on a set of double doors. A large sign above the entrance declared Bioreactors. This was the heart of the facility; the crucial machinery to mass-produce the components of vaccines would be found there. Dom signaled Miguel and Jenna to take the doors.

It didn’t take long to find the source of the noise. Dom spotted a Skull with plated arms ending in claws that looked like macabre rakes. The shreds of a white clean suit hung from its spiked joints. The creature’s appearance reminded him of the first time he’d run into the monsters on the IBSL. But this time, he at least knew what they were up against. The creature aimlessly dragged its claws against the huge barrel-shaped metal bioreactors lining the center of the room.

That was good; it meant the Skull hadn’t noticed them yet.

Dom shot Jenna a hand signal. She nodded and stalked forward. She knelt, shouldered her rifle, and sighted the creature. A single suppressed shot flew from her rifle. Flecks of blood sprayed from the exit wound in the creature’s head, its limbs went slack, and its body crumpled. It fell sideways, and its bony body fell against the bioreactor. The impact let out a hollow, echoing thud.

Clanging footsteps sounded overhead. Dom and the Hunters played their rifles across the wiry catwalks suspended from the ceiling. A Skull charged down one of the catwalks and leapt over the rail. Its arms wheeled. Miguel jumped to avoid the creature as it crashed into the floor. The other Hunters fired. The Skull tried to stand, but its limbs trembled as bullets knocked it back.

More Skulls tumbled from the catwalk. Claws flashed against steel as the Hunters parried blows. The Hunters yelled out, angry and desperate, amid the malicious growls of the unrelenting Skulls. A thin Skull leapt at Dom. Its neck was bent at a crooked angle, yet its teeth gnashed furiously. Dom fired at it. Bullets smashed into its armor. Some pierced it. Others merely pinged against the spikes tracing the edges of its plates. With scarlet rivulets running from its wounds and the corners of its mouth, it continued its attack.

Limbs flailed, teeth snapped. Dom struggled to throw the creature off balance. The monster deftly avoided most of his blows. It lunged in for a bite, and Dom twisted enough for the creature to get a mouthful of his tac vest instead. The moment the creature bit into the fabric, Dom brought the stock of his rifle down. The Skull let go and drew back. Its serrated teeth had torn through the pockets of the vest, spilling a few magazines. They clinked on the floor, but Dom ignored the ammo. He managed a kick that knocked out one of the Skull’s legs. When the monster fell, Dom brought his rifle up and fired straight into its face. A small geyser of gore burst from the Skull, and its limbs went still.

All around, the Hunters and the Skulls found themselves in hand-to-claw combat. Knives and guns lashed out against talons, teeth, and spikes. It seemed as though the world around Dom had turned red with blood. His pulse thumped in his ears, and he gasped for breath, trying to maintain his wits as he faced off against Skull after Skull. More pounced from the catwalks. Some wore yellow helmets with horns growing through the plastic. Once maintenance workers in the facility, they now focused purely on the destruction of the Hunters.

A monster ran at Dom with its head lowered to ram him. He fired, but the shots glanced off the horns and shoulder blades. As it approached, he sidestepped and grabbed one of the blades. He used the Skull’s momentum to swing it into one of the bioreactors. It struggled to its feet, dazed by the impact.

Before Dom could aim his rifle at the beast, Miguel plowed into it. “I got this one, Chief!” His knee smashed into the Skull’s chest. The concealed blade shot out of his prosthetic and crunched through the soft tissue beneath the thing’s chin. The creature slumped, its body leaning against the bioreactor.

In another corner, Glenn and Renee grabbed a pair of Skulls and smashed the two beasts together. Horns and spikes cut into each other’s armor, and fragments of bone flew off from the impact. Jenna dispatched another Skull with her sidearm. Its claws splayed in one final attempt to bring its prey down. Spencer butted another monster with the stock of his rifle. The Skull slammed into a wall. Spencer bashed it again and again until its yellow helmet cracked, followed shortly thereafter by the sickening cracking sound of its head splitting open.

They continued the fight until the last Skull fell into a puddle of its own blood. Its mouth opened and closed. Red bubbles popped between its jagged teeth. Its eyelids fluttered, and a low growl was uttered from between its gray lips. Dom leveled his rifle, squeezed the trigger, and ceased the creature’s desperate grip on its fading life.

With no more Skulls to fight, the Hunters circled up. They stood almost shoulder to shoulder as their eyes and rifles played across the catwalks and the silver bioreactor. The white walls were splashed with crimson, and the windows were cracked from the occasional bullet hole or head smashed against them.

“How are the bioreactors?” Dom asked.

“Don’t see any obvious damage to ‘em,” Jenna said then nodded her head to indicate one. “Besides that dent from when you threw the Skull against it.”

“Good,” Dom said. “Probably should’ve said this before, but we need these things intact. This is our ticket to mass-producing a vaccine.”

“Don’t we need a vaccine to produce first?” Spencer asked.

A grin edged across Miguel’s face. “Got all the vaccines I need right in this motherfucking magazine.” He tapped his rifle.

“Enough, Hunters,” Dom said. “Renee, Spencer, Glenn, take the south end. Miguel, Jenna, on me. Make sure there aren’t any more of these bastards lingering around, and secure any and all entrances.”

The Hunters worked quickly to lock the doors along the ground floor and those leading from the upper catwalks. It took less than ten minutes to clear the immense room.

“All clear, Captain,” Renee said, meeting Dom’s group back in the center of the facility.

“Good. I’m going to tell command we’ve secured the bioreactors.” Dom switched channels on his comm link to Operation Salvage’s Command HQ. “Command, Hunters One. We’ve secured the bioreactors in the VPPL. Do you copy?”

A beat of silence.

“Command, Hunters—”

“Command here. We copy, Hunters One. Your orders are to remain within the facility until further notice.”

“Understood.” Dom clicked the comm link channel over again. “Meredith, Andris, this is Dom. How are things on your end?”

Nothing.

“Meredith, Andris, do you read?”

Again, nothing. The Hunters looked around at each other. They shared worried expressions.

“Probably maintaining radio silence on their end,” Renee offered. But he could tell she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her own claim.

Dom clicked on his smartwatch. “According to Kinsey’s timetable, they should’ve secured the NINDS by now. It’s a relatively small building.”

Unless they’d run into much stronger resistance than expected, he thought.

Again, he clicked on the channel for Command. “Command, Hunters One. What’s the status of Foxtrot One?”

“Hunters One, you are asked to stay put and await further orders.”

“I got that, Command. But two of my own are with Foxtrot. What’s going on?”

“Hunters One, Foxtrot One is still on mission.”

Dom clicked off the channel, cursing. “Bureaucratic bastards. Huntress, this is Dom. Have you heard from Meredith or Andris?”

“Negative,” Chao’s voice responded at once. “We lost comms with them a few minutes ago. Our attempts to hail them have gone unanswered.”

“Damn it! We’re not going to wait if they’re getting their asses kicked out there! Frank, you got eyes on Foxtrot?”

“Negative, Captain,” Frank replied. “Kinsey’s men ordered me out of their airspace when they sent in reinforcements. Lost track of Meredith and Andris when they entered the NINDS.”

Dom cursed again. What the fuck was going on?

“Uh, Captain.” Chao’s voice. “We’ve got unidentified contacts headed toward the Huntress. About fifteen klicks away and coming in fast.”

***

Lauren pulled her hands through her hair. “What the hell is going on now?”

Thomas leaned in and squinted at Chao’s monitor. The radar showed a flurry of blips headed straight at them.

“Every time I want to get a little science done, shit hits the fan,” Lauren said.

“Sorry, Doc,” Chao said. “Hold on to your beakers.” He adjusted the mic on his headset and spoke into it. “Unidentified aircraft, this is the Huntress. Please identify yourselves.”

Chao waited in silence for a reply. The comm specialist repeated the request, and again there was no answer.

Adam stood from behind his desk. “Still can’t reach Meredith or Andris. The line’s still open, but they aren’t responding.”

“Weird,” Samantha said. “They didn’t say anything about radio silence. I wonder if there’s a glitch or something.”

Thomas rolled an unlit cigar between his fingers. “I doubt it, Samantha. You three aren’t the type to make mistakes.”

“I know, I know,” Samantha said, frustration filling her voice. “I’m working on it.”

Adding to the turmoil, Chao sent another request to the unidentified aircraft headed their way. Again, no response. Then he pointed to his monitor. “Bogeys in range of our outboards cams.” The screen displayed flashes of silver over the horizon. “Looks like helicopters and a couple of Coast Guard cutters. They’re all US designation.”

“Kinsey didn’t say anything about sending someone to intercept us,” Thomas said. “Chao?”

“On it.” Chao’s fingers flew over his keyboard. “Operation Salvage Command, this is the Huntress. We’ve got unidentified aircraft and seacraft. Appear to belong to the US. Can you confirm?”

Silence.

Chao sighed in exasperation and repeated the request.

Lauren’s pulse quickened when the request went unanswered. She shared a worried expression with Thomas. He shook his head back and forth slowly and started to chew on his cigar.

“What the fuck is going on, Huntress?” Dom’s voice cut over the comm links, echoing in the electronics workshop.

“We don’t know,” Chao said. “We’re trying to—”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Samantha slammed her fist on her desk. A full can of energy drink fell over and spilled onto the deck. She ignored it. “Goddammit! We’ve got a Trojan horse virus. It just sapped all onboard comm equipment.”

Thomas’s face flushed in anger. “How the hell did that happen?”

“Kinsey’s goddamned data package,” Samantha said, practically spitting. “His team must’ve slid it in there when we opened the data link with them.”

Chao’s fingers tapped frantically across the keyboard. He spoke into the comm link again. “Dom, Huntress. Do you read?”

“You’re not going to reach them,” Samantha said. “They’re blocking all signals. We’ve got jamming on all frequencies coming from our own damn equipment.”

Chao leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide and dazed. “No, this can’t be happening.”

“Why the hell are they doing this to us?” Thomas asked no one in particular.

Lauren’s thoughts turned to Glenn, stuck in the VPPL with the other Hunters. All comms were lost. They were on their own.

***

“Huntress, do you read?” Dom barked.

Still no answer. He thought of his daughters and crew on the ship. Had something happened to them? He’d never lost communication with his ship like this. There was no reason their signal should be blocked.

He tried Meredith and Andris. Again, only silence. Dom cursed and paced in front of the Hunters. They shifted nervously as they watched their captain.

“Frank, you there?” Dom asked, fearing the silence that would follow.

“Still read you, Captain.”

“Thank God. Do you have any word from the Huntress?”

“Negative.”

“Meredith and Andris?”

“Also a negative.”

Dom adjusted his grip on his rifle. He scanned the facility and then looked at his Hunters. “Facility’s secure. As far as I’m concerned, we’re—”

The wail of an alarm cut him off. Red lights flashed from the ceiling and over the exits. Klaxons screamed. The bioreactors hummed to life with mechanical groans, and computer monitors along the walls lit up. And then the sets of double doors leading into the room slammed shut, followed by the reinforced safety doors.

“Juice is back on!” Glenn yelled over the cacophony.

“Frank,” Dom said, straining to be heard. “Did they return power to the whole NIH complex?”

“Negative, Captain,” Frank said. “Just you guys. From what I can see, looks like it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

Dom’s stomach twisted. “Hunters, we need to get the fuck out of here! Move!”

“Captain, you’ve got Skulls coming every which way around your building,” Frank said. “Facility’s completely surrounded. You’re—”

The line went silent.

“Frank, you there?” Dom asked.

No answer.

“Goddammit!” Dom yelled.

Miguel and Glenn started prying open one of the doors leading to the hall, but it was resisting their efforts. Lauren had briefed Dom on the facilities, and he recognized the signs: the bioreactor was going into containment mode. As far as the automated computer system knew, the bioreactors were compromised.

“We got to use explosives!” Spencer yelled.

“Careful!” Dom said. “Don’t hurt the bioreactors.”

“Captain,” Frank’s voice finally called over the comm link, sounding defeated. “I...I have to land. They’re forcing me down. Gonna shoot me out of the air if I don’t.”

Anger flooded Dom. This mission had been a complete setup. One big ploy to take him and his crew down. And for what? What the fuck did Kinsey hope to accomplish?

-30-

––––––––

The Judge smiled nastily. “How long are we going to do this? Just tell me what I want to know.”

Shepherd just glared at him as he kicked the table. It slanted again. Shepherd’s head slammed against the wood. The wet cloth went over his face.

When the man finally let Shepherd breathe again, he gasped, “I don’t know anything!”

“You know what? I’m starting to think you really don’t know jack shit. How about we try a different question. Tell me about your ties to Meredith Webb.”

Shepherd couldn’t hide his puzzled expression. “Meredith Webb?” It took him a moment to place the name. She’d been the CIA agent with Captain Holland. Other than meeting her at Detrick, he hadn’t seen her before or since.

The Judge shook his head slowly. “Don’t play dumb. We’ve got recordings of your reports to Kinsey.”

“How do you have access to those conversations?”

“Kinsey gave us the recordings, of course.”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“My, aren’t we chatty all of a sudden.” The Judge sighed. “I like this. I’m CIA, Shepherd. That’s the United States Central Intelligence Agency. We’ve got intel that implicates Meredith Webb and Dominic Holland in the Oni Agent Outbreak. And you’ve been aiding and abetting them.”

“They’re trying to stop the goddamned bioweapon!” Shepherd yelled. “They’re on our side!”

“Your grasp of the sides in this situation seems tenuous at best. At the time of the outbreak, Holland went to the Amanojaku Project’s latest headquarters at Webb’s request. Every step of the way, he and Webb have been at the center of this mess. And then there’s you. Acting commander of the bioweapons base where that project originated. Are you really trying to tell me that you, Webb, and Holland are innocent?”

“You’re fucking right that’s what I’m telling you!”

“Wrong answer.” The Judge reached for the bucket and cloth again, but a sudden scream echoed outside the door. The man’s ears perked. Another bloodcurdling scream rang out, followed by the throaty howls Shepherd had grown to know far too well.

Skulls.

The door to the interrogation chamber burst open, and the two men in suits rushed in. “Subject Two’s restraints were compromised.”

The Judge’s face turned red with rage. “I told them we shouldn’t be keeping those things down there.”

“Well, the doctors said the labs weren’t equipped to—”

“I don’t give a shit. Goddammit, Lawson’s going to get an earful when—”

The Skull’s cries faded, and they all turned as they heard the click of claws against stone.

The Judge looked at Shepherd, then the dark hall. “Get him back to his cell. I’m going to go handle this. Fucking Lawson...”

Pulling a handgun from his chest holster, the Judge hurried from the room. The two suits unstrapped Shepherd and forced him to his feet. More yells and gunfire assaulted his ears. The suits shoved Shepherd before them.

“That doesn’t sound like just one,” the first suit said.

The other grunted in agreement. A man came running down the corridor, his face ashen. Footsteps followed him as another two people came running. Screams and the sound of bodies hitting the floor. More gunfire, and then silence.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” the first suit said. “Those things’ll kill us.”

“Lawson is going to kill us if we don’t take care of this asshole. Let the guards handle the test subjects. Always have before.” The second suit shoved Shepherd forward. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get a move on.”

The suits urged him on until they all broke into a slight jog. The second suit had tried to sound brave, but Shepherd could tell he was as anxious as the first. He thought about trying his hand at bringing the two men down. But that wouldn’t help prove he was indeed on the side of the angels—if this place really was under the control of Kinsey and the US government. And that name that he kept hearing...Lawson. He knew he’d heard it before, but had a difficult time placing it. Who did he know by that name? Had someone else mentioned the name before? If he’d had to guess, he would bet money that Meredith Webb could tell him exactly who this Lawson was.

More gunshots. Shepherd could sense the tension between the two suits as they guided him down the last corridor to the cells. One moved to unlock Shepherd’s cell. Then he froze. Down the corridor, a figure came charging. Shepherd could tell it hadn’t been a Skull for long. It still wore combat ACUs and had a rifle strapped across its back. In fact, it looked like a normal soldier except for the glowing, bloodshot eyes, and the claws starting to grow from its fingernails.

“What the fuck are you doing, Wallace?” one of the suits said, drawing his pistol on the soldier-turned-Skull. The recently infected monster leapt at him before he could get a shot off. It bored down on him with snapping teeth and bit into his neck. It tore a chunk of flesh away, and blood spilled from the wound.

The other suit dropped the prison cell keys and fumbled for his sidearm.

The Skull stood, let out a bellow, and charged Shepherd. He braced for the impact and lowered into a crouch. The Skull careened into him, but Shepherd grabbed the monster’s wrists and used momentum to help fling it past him and into the door of another cell. The Skull’s head cracked against the steel door, and the surviving suit plugged the creature with three shots in quick succession. The Skull’s chest heaved, and it roared in pain. It swiped, and its budding claws ripped into the suit’s arms and his chest. His pistol went flying.

Shepherd jumped to recover the sidearm and then swung it around on the Skull. But he was too late. The Skull’s claws stabbed into the man’s abdomen. It ripped away first his shirt, then his skin. Organs glistened in the dull amber glow of the cell block lights. The Skull buried its face in the wound, feasting on what he’d uncovered.

All the while, the suit wailed in agony as he was eaten alive.

Shepherd fired over and over again. The creature’s body fell back. Its vacant, dead eyes stared back from a face covered in scarlet like demonic war paint.

“I...I...” the suit stammered. He coughed, a rattling sound deep in his throat, and then his eyes rolled back. Shepherd didn’t have to check for a pulse to know the man was gone.

Shepherd stood alone a moment, wondering where he should go, what he should do.

“Someone! Let me out of here!” a young female voice called out. He’d heard that voice before when he’d first been brought here. She was one of his fellow prisoners. He hesitated a moment, considering the myriad of reasons she might’ve been imprisoned. Then he decided whatever she’d done couldn’t merit starving to death behind that door or becoming dinner for the Skulls once they broke into her cell.

“Hold on!” He grabbed the keys from where they’d fallen next to the disemboweled suit. His fingers shook, still weak from his torture and the attack he’d just endured. Still, he managed to get the key into the lock and open the door.

“Thank you,” the young woman said, rushing out. She looked, wide eyed, at the carnage. “What in the hell happened out here?”

“Skull attack. You run into them before?”

Her face turned grim. “Seen plenty of them at Kent Island. I’m Midshipman Rachel Kaufman. You?”

“Commander Jacob Shepherd of Fort Detrick.”

The midshipman blinked in surprise. “Dom told me about you! Were you a prisoner here too? What gives?”

“Dom, as in Dominic Holland? Wait a sec, you’re one of the midshipmen from the Academy, aren’t you?” Shepherd’s suspicions of the young woman started to ebb as he put the pieces together.

“That’s right. They’ve got Rory locked up, too.” She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Rory? Where are you?”

“Rachel!” a muffled voice called from under another door.

They sprinted to Rory’s cell and freed him. He burst out and hugged Rachel.

“I hate to break up this reunion,” Shepherd said, “but when you met Dom, did you also meet Meredith Webb?”

They nodded.

“Yeah, she was the redhead with him, right? One of the Hunters?” Rachel asked.

“A lot more than just a Hunter,” Shepherd said. “Apparently, they think she and Dom are traitors.”

“What?” Rory asked. “That’s ridiculous.”

“The bastards running this place believe Dom and Meredith were involved in planning or causing the outbreak.”

“No way,” Rachel said. “That doesn’t make sense. They risked their lives to save us!” She put a hand on her chest. “Why the hell would they do that if they intentionally caused this mess?”

More gunfire sounded, this time closer than before.

“No idea why Meredith and Dom are suspects,” Shepherd said, “but we don’t have time to figure that out now. Let’s get the hell out of here!”

***

Kara looked up from her computer screen. More alarms sounded in the mess hall, but she didn’t want to abandon her work. Her final simulation was almost complete, and she’d thought this time she’d have a molecule that would work. She’d been so close before. Her score had risen from fifty-five to eighty then a ninety percent match. This molecule from Boston, whatever it was, it looked like a winner.

“What’s going on?” Sadie asked, hugging Maggie close.

One of the nearby crew members turned to them and said, “That’s the alarm for an unauthorized boarding. You three stay here!” She rushed out of the room, leaving Kara, Sadie, and Navid staring at each other.

Kara stood while the progress bar on her laptop continued to cross the screen. She glanced at it then at Navid and Sadie. “No way we’re going to stay here, are we?”

“I think we should,” Sadie said.

“We can help,” Kara insisted.

Navid seemed to mull it over for a second and then held up his injured hand. “Normally, I’d be game to do whatever I could to help out. I owe my life to everyone here. But they said boarders. I’m happy to fight against the Skulls, but people? I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“Damn.” Kara paced, knowing Navid was right. She’d killed the monsters before, but she didn’t know how to defend the ship against ordinary people.

She sighed, staring at her screen. Ninety percent complete. Just a bit more to go.

The hatch to the mess hall flew open. Maggie immediately barked at the intruder. Navid, Kara, and Sadie all turned, but Kara’s heart settled when she recognized the familiar beard and nerdy glasses. Adam tossed each of them a pack already filled with items.

“Come on! To the cargo hold!”

“But—” Sadie started to protest.

“We need to move!” Adam said, gesturing toward the passageway. He rushed through the corridor with the others at his heels. Kara snatched her laptop before she left.

“Military is on our ass. Least they say they’re the military.” Adam spoke between breaths. “Lost contact with everyone on the outside.”

“What? My dad too?” Kara said.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “Last we heard, he was okay. Had the VPPL secured. But now, all our comms are down.” He pushed open the hatch to the cargo bay and ushered them inside. After securing it again, he handed them each a comm link. “It’s not going to work on the ship. They’re blocking all outgoing and incoming signals using our own equipment. But once we’re outside the interference zone, we should be able to contact your father and the other Hunters.”

“What’s going to happen to the boat?” Navid asked.

Adam shut the lights off in the cargo bay, and they were bathed in darkness. “Don’t know yet. But it doesn’t look like they’re dropping in for a friendly chat. Come on, help me with this.”

He pushed one of the Zodiacs toward the massive bay doors. The others helped. Maggie’s tail remained between her legs, and she whined.

“Maybe it’s a false alarm,” Adam said. “Maybe we’re reading this wrong, but we wanted to get you three off this ship.”

“What about everyone else?” Kara asked.

“You all aren’t on the crew manifest. Can’t take too many of us, or they’ll get suspicious and start searching for us. Then no one escapes,” Adam said. “Load your packs on the Zodiac then stay close when you jump out. Understood?”

Kara nodded. Sadie and Navid looked frightened, but they too bobbed their heads in agreement.

“Okay.” Adam depressed a button on a panel, and the bay doors started sliding out. “You three need to jump out first. We don’t have the crew available to lower the Zodiac like usual.”

“You aren’t coming?” Kara asked.

“I’ll follow you shortly. Ready?” Adam asked. “On my count, get the hell out of here! One, two, three!”

The trio ran out of the bay. Each had a hand on the rope around the Zodiac’s gunwale. Maggie faithfully bounded after them. For a second, Kara kicked her legs in the air above the murky waves. Then water splashed around them, grabbing them in its icy grip.

“Sadie? Navid?” she called.

“Here!” Sadie called back.

“Got it,” Navid said, struggling to pull himself up with his one good hand. Kara watched Maggie paddle over to the man. Even with her healing paw, she managed to push her body against his until he wrapped his broken hand around her furry shoulders. “Thanks, pup.”

The cargo bay doors started to close, groaning slightly. Kara thought for a moment that Adam had abandoned them. But before the doors met, she saw him wheel out above the water. The man swam against the waves, struggling to keep his head above water. He soon caught up and gasped for air as he grabbed hold of the boat.

“Everyone okay?”

“We’re fine, I think,” Kara said.

She could hear the others splashing and gasping. Icy water sloshed along her body, and her fingers started to turn numb.

“Load up!” Adam yelled.

Kara yanked herself into the boat. Water sluiced off her. She reached over the side and pulled in Sadie. Adam hoisted himself over and helped her lift Maggie and Navid. Maggie shook herself off, sending droplets of freezing water from her soaked fur. Navid’s lips were blue, and his limbs trembled. His injured hand looked bad, and Kara could see his face twist in pain. Maggie seemed to sense his discomfort and nuzzled against him. Her tail wagged slowly. Adam positioned himself near the tiller and primed the Zodiac’s motor. It gurgled to life, and he directed the craft away from the ship.

Kara could see shapes moving along the upper deck of the Huntress as the choppers hovered above it. She shivered, not from merely the cold but from the new unknown they faced. Her world had been turned upside down once again. The Skulls had destroyed the life she once took for granted. Now she was being driven from her new home. She put an arm around her sister and pulled Sadie close.

A couple of gunshots cracked over the water. Kara couldn’t tell who had fired or why. Adam grimaced but kept facing forward, guiding the Zodiac on its course. Soon the ship was out of sight. They churned on in silence for what seemed like an hour. Adam occasionally surveyed the shore with binoculars but did not say what he was looking for. Her thoughts turned back to the others left on the ship, wondering how they’d fare. A heavy weight settled over her as she realized how close they’d been to discovering a cure. All of that progress, all of those efforts to save humanity, might now be lost.

“We’re going to follow the Potomac until we can reach shelter,” Adam said at last. “We’ll lie low for a while and see if we can contact the group at the NIH. Sound good?”

The others nodded halfheartedly. The bow of the Zodiac cut through the waves, and it bobbed and tossed less as they neared land. Bare branches arched over the riverbank, but other trees still wore the vibrant red and orange hues of a bonfire. Occasionally they passed buildings standing like silent sentinels along the waterway. Now and then, a few Skulls burst from the foliage or tumbled out of houses overlooking the river. The creatures leapt into the water or tried to sprint after them, sticking to the shore. The Zodiac outpaced them and left the Skulls howling in frustration.

They finally came upon a pier jutting into the water. A black-roofed pavilion lay at the dock’s end. Adam motored toward it and signaled for the group to hop out of the craft. Kara leapt onto the slippery wood and lent a hand to Navid. Sadie and Maggie scrambled out. Adam killed the motor. He held a mooring line from the Zodiac and climbed onto the dock.

“Bring her up.” Adam started to lug the rubber craft onto the dock, and the others helped. “We need to hide the Zodiac.”

Maggie grabbed one of the mooring lines in her teeth and pulled it beside Kara. She almost laughed, forgetting where they were and what they were running from. The dog’s valiant efforts in a war it had no comprehension of were both admirable and comical. They grunted and heaved the Zodiac ashore and then pushed it under the pavilion. Once the Zodiac was stowed, they picked up their packs. Adam led them up a stone pathway lined with trees. He looked back at them with an unexpected smile. “Know where we are?”

Kara shook her head, but Sadie’s face lit up. “I came here with Dad! We’re at Mount Vernon, aren’t we?”

They broke through the forest toward a white-brick manor with a scarlet roof.

“Welcome to George Washington’s estate,” Adam said.

“Why are we here?” Navid asked, adjusting the strap of his pack with his good hand.

“For somewhere along the Potomac, this place is pretty well hidden in the woods. Plus, you’ve got gates and fences to protect it,” Adam said. “And since it’s a tourist site and national landmark, they would’ve shut the whole place down during the outbreak. That means fewer Skulls. Plus, there’s a restaurant.” He started counting on his fingers. “A gift shop with more food. And they even have a whole field full of crops.”

“Yeah,” Sadie said. “I remember the tour guide telling us they were growing stuff just like Washington did when he ran the plantation.”

“Right,” Adam said. “So we’ve got beds, an isolated location, and food. Gives us time to figure out what’s next.”

Kara looked up at the mansion as they approached it. Despite everything, she didn’t feel right about breaking into the historic home and taking up residence. She felt a strange sense of relief when Adam bypassed it and took them past the gardens and to the visitor’s center first. They passed into the gift shop full of trinkets. Christmas ornaments and gift baskets stuffed with wine bottles filled the place. Cookbooks and souvenir mugs, nothing that looked especially useful. Except for the T-shirts.

“Dry clothes, anyone?” Adam asked.

Kara started to pick through the shirts. A dull ping sounded from her pack. She paused, her brow furrowed, wondering what had caused the noise. Then she remembered. She tore through the pack and took out the laptop. It was closed, but she hadn’t turned it off. The FoldIt program had continued to run in the background, completing its molecular simulation. Opening the computer, Kara settled against a rack of sweatshirts. She forgot about the soaking clothes she wore. The progress bar showed a complete simulation. And it was perfect. Her fingers started to shake, and her mouth dropped open.

“Adam! Navid! Sadie!”

They crowded around. Each stood in silence for a moment, staring at the screen. Then they realized what the score meant. They burst into yells of joy and relief. Maggie’s tail wagged.

Kara hugged Sadie. “We did it!”

“I can’t believe it,” Navid said. “I can’t believe it. After everything, you found it!”

Kara held the laptop at arm’s length, afraid for a moment that she was reading it wrong. But she really had done it. She’d found a molecule from one of the Mass Gen laboratories that could be used as a vaccine.

She’d found a way to stop the spread of the Oni Agent.

-31-

––––––––

Meredith stared down the barrel of the rifle. She saw no easy way to escape Ford and his Marines. Judging by their attitude, they had no intention of going against orders. They weren’t soldiers gone bad; they were merely doing their duty. They were trained to kill for their country, and right now she was their target.

“Drop your weapons!” Ford repeated.

Meredith tried to delay them. “Get Kinsey on the line,” she said. “I’ll explain—”

“Do as I say!” Ford’s eyes narrowed, and she thought she saw his finger begin to tighten on the trigger.

“Okay, okay.” She gently lowered her rifle to the ground. Andris did likewise. She saw no easy way out of this. Maybe she could call Dom, warn him.

But it seemed Ford had already considered that option. He kept his muzzle trained on her. “Hand over your mics.”

“Fine,” Meredith said, slowly undoing her mic. She dropped it into Rollins’s outstretched fingers, and Andris gave his mic to Grant. She tried to keep her voice calm and level. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” Ford seemed almost offended by the question. “You don’t get to ask why. You caused this mess. It’s your goddamned fault!”

“No, no, I never—”

“Don’t lie to me! Command told me who you are, who you used to work for.” He shook the rifle at her. “Drop your goddamn weapons!”

But before Meredith could comply, a brash chorus of alarms and sirens rent the air. The generators chugged to life, sounding like a NASCAR race. Ford’s gaze momentarily slipped toward the din, and Meredith didn’t hesitate. She ducked under the Marine sergeant’s rifle and landed an uppercut that made him stagger. She didn’t want to kill the man, but she could not allow herself to be captured.

Andris was as quick to react and landed a hard elbow into Grant’s face, sending the man’s standard-issue glasses flying. Rollins wheeled his rifle around and aimed at Andris, but Meredith shoved Ford into Rollins. The impact sent his aim up as he squeezed the trigger. The bullets chewed into a nearby brick building. She scooped up their weapons.

“Let’s go!” Meredith tossed Andris his rifle, and they sprinted away from Ford and his men.

The Marines stationed near the Huey opened fire on them, followed by the door gunner. Rounds whistled through the air. But the wailing alarms and generators had attracted more than the attention of the Marines. Skulls flung themselves out of buildings and clambered over the fences surrounding the NIH facilities. One leapt into the Huey, and the Marines focused their attention on the creature. The scuffle gave Meredith and Andris a brief reprieve from the gunfire.

“What is happening?” Andris asked as they paused to catch their breath. He pointed to the building where the alarms were coming from. Too many Skulls to count were converging on it, drawn by the sound of the klaxons and the generators.

“If I had to guess, I’d say that’s the VPPL.”

“Where Dom is.” Andris clenched his jaw. “Fucking bastards, using us as bait.”

“I have a feeling there’s more to it than that,” Meredith said.

Gunfire chattered. Dirt and debris flicked up around them again. Meredith ducked and took refuge behind a massive pillar holding up the awning of one of the NIH research buildings. She swiveled around, her rifle shouldered, and saw Ford, Rollins, and Grant firing on them. Andris prepared to fire back.

“Don’t kill them!” Meredith yelled.

Andris scowled, pursing his lips. “Have it your way.” He fired off a quick burst, far over their heads. But it was enough to make them duck.

“Can’t have their blood on our hands. They’re just following orders.”

“They have no problem with our blood on their hands,” Andris muttered, shooting wide again to keep them back. “We need to get to the Hunters, and I won’t let them stop us.”

“Same.” Meredith unlatched a smoke grenade from her tac vest. She pulled the pin and tossed it into the street between them and the Marines. Gray smoke plumed out of it. Wind cut through the billowing tendrils, twisting them into the air. More gunfire rang out from Ford’s group. But their shots were erratic, chipping away at the brick around Meredith and Andris. The two used the cover to move from under the awning and into the street. Meredith could sense something running in the dense smokescreen beside her. She heard the rattle of bones and saw a hunched silhouette mere yards away.

Her feet pounded against the asphalt harder, faster. They didn’t need to fight these Skulls; they didn’t need to fight the Marines. They needed to get to the VPPL. They needed to find Dom and the others and get the hell out of the NIH before Kinsey’s men or the Skulls got to them.

The clicking of claws against pavement sounded louder, and a Skull careened out of the smoke. It lunged, and Meredith twisted to avoid it. The monster kept after her. It ran with unholy speed. She bashed its head with the stock of her rifle, and it tumbled, somersaulting and disappearing into the smoke.

Her lungs started to burn. Her eyes itched, assaulted by the acrid smoke. Coughing, she and Andris burst from the gray fog. Wisps of smoke twisted after them. They ran behind a group of Skulls intent on the lobby of the VPPL. The creatures threw themselves at the glass doors until they shattered. Meredith’s heart stuttered when she saw a Goliath barrel through the entrance. It crashed into the building and sent a cloud of dust and debris into the air. Smaller Skulls swarmed around the large creature.

“We’re too late,” Andris said.

“No!” Meredith yelled. “We’ve got to help!”

Gunfire rang out from inside the VPPL, adding to the discord of screaming alarms and frenzied Skulls. Meredith saw choppers overhead, but none swooped in to offer support. Andris had been right about Kinsey’s plan: Isolate the Hunters. Use them as bait. Bring all the Skulls into one place to truly eradicate them.

This was all her fault. Kinsey had been biding his time, waiting to make an example of Dom, extracting information from him, building a case against the Hunters. But it was her they really wanted. They must actually think she was involved in the Oni Agent outbreak. Maybe even responsible for this madness.

Shots cracked out, this time from behind them. Ford’s men emerged from the smokescreen, guns blazing. Andris went down hard, clutching his chest. His head slammed against the pavement, and his jaw went slack. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Rage filled Meredith. She debated for a split second whether she should fire back.

Before she could pull the trigger, a spray of bubbling liquid shot from the smoke, dousing Ford and his men. The trio swatted at their skin as it turned red and blistered. The acid ate into their flesh, and they screamed. A gaggle of Skulls descended on the agonized Marines and tore into them with ravenous fury. The men’s tortured cries devolved into gurgling before being replaced by the sound of ripping flesh. A Skull missing its lower jaw emerged, reared back, and sprayed the feeding pack with more acid, scattering them so that it could enjoy the spoils for itself.

Meredith turned away from the grisly sight and pulled Andris by his collar. She hoisted him into a fireman’s carry and loped toward an open loading dock with two vacant semi-trailers. Her muscles strained as she lugged Andris through a door. She set him among a pile of cardboard boxes and unstrapped his tac vest to check his wounds.

More gunfire echoed across the NIH complex. Skulls howled. Helicopter blades beat the air. But there was only one sound Meredith wanted to hear at this moment. Meredith leaned in close over Andris’s mouth and placed her ear near his lips. She prayed the Hunter was still breathing.

***

Red lights flashed viciously throughout the bioreactor room. Dom tried prying one of the emergency containment doors open with a large wrench he’d found in a toolbox, but he stopped when something slammed against the door from the outside. Pounding added to the already-terrible din. The familiar sound of Skulls howling came next. Skulls smashed against the doors, trying to force themselves into the bioreactor room. The screech of bending metal sounded from the south end. Jenna and Glenn jumped as a containment door bent inward. They leveled their rifles at it and backed up slowly.

The door groaned then blew out. It careened into Jenna and knocked her over. A Goliath forced itself through. Its massive, plated shoulders scraped the doorframe. Its claws dug into the walls as its bulging muscles strained and flexed. The spikes and horns protruding from its demonic body were stuck like fishhooks in the doorframe. The walls shook as the Goliath pulled itself through and finally freed itself.

Glenn yanked the door off Jenna, and Dom directed the others to provide a volley of cover fire. Bullets cut into the Goliath’s armor. Smaller Skulls spilled in around it. Several tumbled under the hail of bullets. Their bones snapped under the weight of the swarm flooding in behind them.

Dom’s hope of ensuring the VPPL survived Operation Salvage faded. He played his rifle over two Skulls closing in on Glenn and Jenna. A squeeze of the trigger later, the Skulls tripped over each other, their limbs tangled and bleeding. Glenn pulled Jenna up. She put an arm over his shoulder and used him for support as they limped away from the oncoming horde.

A Skull wearing combat fatigues loped toward them. With Jenna’s injury slowing the two Hunters, Dom could see the monster would be on them in seconds. He shot a salvo into the beast. Bullets tore holes in its fatigues. The Skull continued toward Jenna and Glenn, but its movement was hampered by its bleeding wounds. It let out another wail before pouncing.

Dom sent a second burst of gunfire at the Skull. The bullets impaled the creature midjump. It was dead before it hit the ground. The other Hunters formed a perimeter. They fired into the mass of Skulls trying to make it farther into the bioreactor room. Bodies piled up as they came through the entrance. While the Hunters kept the smaller Skulls at bay, the Goliath swatted at the gunfire as if it were nothing more than a minor nuisance.

Rearing its head back, the Goliath bellowed. Dom fired into the creature’s mouth. Bullets ricocheted off the Goliath’s tusks, but some found their home in its soft palate. The monster stumbled backward and fell with an enormous crash. The Goliath crushed several of the smaller Skulls. Dom thanked God for the lucky shot that had sent a bullet into that damned thing’s brain.

The Hunters continued to lay down a heavy stream of fire into the doorway the Goliath had destroyed. Skull corpses stacked up until a veritable wall of bone, flesh, and blood blocked the entrance.

“Changing mags!” Dom called. As soon as he reloaded, his finger found the trigger again. He instinctively patted his vest to take inventory of his remaining magazines. The earlier fight had depleted over half the ammunition he’d brought.

“Spencer, Miguel, you guys see an escape?”

The two Hunters momentarily ceased firing and sprinted alongside the walls, searching for an available exit, but he feared he already knew the answer.

“Skulls at every fucking door, Chief!” Miguel yelled as he sent a salvo into a Skull with particularly long spikes arcing from its spine. The beast twisted when the gunfire slammed into it, and its body skidded across the tiled floor.

The flow of Skulls into the room started to dwindle. Creatures pushed themselves through their dead compatriots in the entrance, but the sheer number of corpses made it difficult. The Hunters’ gunfire grew more sporadic. Dom’s crew took more careful shots, conserving their ammunition.

The momentary reprieve allowed Dom a chance to check his comm link once more. “Huntress, this is Dom, do you read?” He tried hailing them again before calling Frank. But his attempts to reach the pilot were also fruitless. He scanned the room again. More pounding and scratching sounded against the doors. Skulls stubbornly pushed themselves through the mountain of dead monsters. The alarms continued their relentless wail, no doubt calling more of the creatures to the bioreactor room.

If Kinsey’s plan to clear the NIH facilities had been to trap Dom and his crew in this hellhole and then invite every goddamned Skull in Bethesda over for a visit, it was working. Another creature burst from the pile of the dead. It careened through the hail of gunfire and darted behind one of the bioreactors. A second flew past the Hunters’ volleys. Renee twisted to fire on it, but her rounds pinged uselessly off a knot of metal pipes.

“Stay on them!” Dom ordered, gesturing to the wall of Skulls at the entrance. He dashed to the bioreactors to meet the two evasive Skulls before they could flank his crew.

Sidestepping around one of the huge steel drums, he leveled his rifle where he expected the Skulls to be. Instead, he was greeted with nothing but flashing red emergency lights. He prowled forward, playing his muzzle between the bioreactors. Something caught his eye, a silhouette in the blinking lights.

A Skull stood atop one of the bioreactors. It screamed, and spittle flew from between its lips. Its claws clicked together, its muscles coiled, and then it sprang. Dom brought his rifle up to fire on the creature, but something slammed into him. He fell sideways. His helmet smacked against the floor, and his ears rang. The Skull grabbed his tac vest, and he tried to bash it with the stock of his rifle. With one swipe, the Skull attacking him knocked his weapon away.

Dom crab-crawled backward, trying to regain his footing. The Skull stood, its nose scrunched in a menacing snarl. Its nostrils twitched. Ragged flesh hung from where its right arm should be. It raised its left hand, displaying its claws in all their skeletal glory. Each one glistened with blood. Dom had only a second to wonder whose blood it was before the creature pounced.

Dom barely avoided the bloodied claws. But the other Skull that had leapt from the bioreactor soon joined the fray. Both its arms seemed perfectly functional as it delivered blow after blow. Dom dodged and parried as best he could. One of his boots slipped on a pool of blood left by a dead Skull. He dropped again, and pain shot through him as he landed hard.

The one-armed Skull lunged, and Dom grabbed the monster by its wrist. He lay on his back and planted his feet into the attacking creature’s chest. He kicked while still holding onto its wrist. Bone cracked and broke, and Dom wrenched the clawed hand until it was held on by only a few red sinews. He swept his leg out again and knocked the Skull completely off its feet. He almost let go when its hand suddenly snapped off, but instead he slammed the claws into the Skull’s own face. The bone daggers plunged through the Skull’s eye socket, impaling their owner and ending its miserable existence.

The second Skull wasted no time in rushing Dom, intent on finishing what the other had not. This time, Dom reached for his thigh sheath and whipped out his knife. He sliced upward. The blade dug through the flesh under the creature’s chin. The Skull’s limbs drooped instantly, and Dom withdrew the blade. He flicked off the crimson liquid and replaced it in his sheath.

A loud crash of metal against metal sounded somewhere in the main chamber. Dom snatched up his rifle and ran toward the noise. A containment door crumpled inward with an ear-splitting screech. Another Goliath, its head swiveling from side to side as it took in the room, emerged. A discordant noise followed as a second containment door flew through the air. Glenn and Miguel ducked under it. The door crashed against a pipe, slicing into it, and water sprayed out. It doused the nearby Skulls and Hunters alike. The second Goliath let out a bellow, its massive chest plates quaking. With each step it took, the floor trembled.

The Hunters circled up. Packs of Skulls followed the two Goliaths, and the pile of bodies blocking the first door started to shift as yet more of the monsters squeezed through.

“Chief, what the fuck do we do now?” Miguel asked.

A low gurgling sounded from above. Dom thought it was a burst pipe, but a quick glance told him he was wrong. There, on a catwalk, stood a Drooler. A ventilation shaft hung open beside it, singed where the Drooler had burned its way out. The Drooler reeled back, and the gurgling grew louder as it prepared to drown the Hunters in acid.

-32-

––––––––

Dom unleashed a hail of gunfire into the Skulls nearest them. He barreled straight into one, knocking it over. A powerful stomp crushed the creature’s head. “Move, move, move!”

The Hunters ran, firing into the Skulls. They cleared a swathe around them and pushed toward the end of the room where the doorway was blocked by corpses. The wet slurp of acid bubbling from the Drooler’s mouth sounded overhead. It unleashed a spray into the spot where the Hunters had been. Caught by the corrosive shower, a half-dozen Skulls screeched. Their gray flesh bubbled, and the bony armor plates dissolved all the way to their innards.

The wall of dead Skulls started to shake. Broken limbs and bone plates flew. A tremendous roar assaulted Dom’s eardrums. He gritted his jaw and fired into the cloud of debris and blood before the dust settled. Another Goliath was stepping through the pile of corpses. Its tree-trunk feet crushed the bodies beneath its steps. More Skulls surrounded it like an honor guard. Hooked talons slashed out. Rifles fired back. Curses flew from the Hunters’ mouths. Blood splattered.

Another rumbling gurgle caught Dom’s ears. He spotted the Drooler on the catwalk once more, thick, acidic saliva dripping over the front of its pock-marked chest. It was preparing for another assault.

“Where the fuck do we go?” Jenna asked, her voice stricken by panic. She reloaded, fumbling with the mag.

Dom glanced around the room now choked with Skulls. There would be no easy way past the monsters, and the Goliaths were mere steps from being in range. Then he glanced at the Drooler again as brown bubbles popped from where its lower jaw should be.

“Up!” Dom yelled, jerking his chin at a wiry staircase leading to the catwalk.

Spencer pointed at the Drooler. “But—”

“Up!” Dom bellowed, squeezing his trigger. The burst brought down a smaller Skull before it pounced on Miguel.

Renee led the charge. She closed the distance to the stairs in a matter of seconds. The others followed, with a dozen Skulls nipping at their heels. Their cries urged the Hunters on. Renee shot up the first several steps, turning back only to help Jenna. The wounded Hunter limped up, with Glenn pushing her from behind. Spencer and Miguel provided a salvo of cover fire. Dom waited until all the Hunters made it up the stairs before he started climbing. Each pounding step he took shook the flimsy stairs. The entire shaky structure quaked. Dom shot a hand out and braced himself on one of the rails.

“Captain!” Renee shouted, shouldering her rifle and firing at something behind him.

He turned in time to see a Goliath wrap its claws around the stairs. The meager bolts holding the stair’s tubular supports popped from the floor. The Goliath bent the staircase, curling it like it was nothing more than a paperclip.

Metal screamed as the welds tore. The Hunters fired on the Goliath, but the giant continued to pull the staircase away from the catwalk. Dom, clinging to the steps, dropped his rifle. It fell into the mass of writhing Skulls below. His boots slipped as more rivets and bolts popped. Dom’s muscles burned as he climbed. The stairs were bent so far now the staircase appeared more like a ladder. The Goliath roared, its hot, wet breath blasting Dom like a violent wind. More screeching metal, more flying bolts. Dom gripped the next stair with both hands.

Glenn lay flat on the catwalk and reached down. Dom’s fingers shook, barely grazing Glenn’s. Then something heavy grabbed his boot, and his other hand slipped. He fell beyond Glenn’s reach and swung precariously. A Skull was latched onto his boot with one clawed hand.

Adrenaline rushed through Dom. He strained to hold on, but he feared it wouldn’t be enough.

Gunfire cracked, and the Skull let go. Its body fell into the roiling creatures, disappearing underneath their hungry faces and flailing limbs. Some of the smaller Skulls climbed atop the hulking Goliath and used the massive creature as a springboard. They leapt from its jutting shoulder blades, their claws arcing through the air.

Dom contorted himself to avoid them, one after the other, as they jumped in desperate fury. Miguel and Jenna fired at the Goliath, shooting directly into its face. It swung a fist to ward off the gunfire and staggered. It stepped far enough away from the mutilated staircase that the smaller Skulls’ leaps fell several yards short from Dom’s boots. Sweat drenched the inside of his gloves. His biceps and forearms shook. He gasped for breath.

“Come on, Captain!” Glenn said, reaching as far as he could.

“I’m trying!” Dom grunted. But exhaustion overwhelmed any effect adrenaline had imparted. His right hand fell loose, and the fingers on his left hand started to slip. The Goliath began its attack on the stairs again, shaking them.

“Captain!” Renee cried.

Glenn’s eyes widened. His jaw clenched as he reached desperately for Dom.

“I’m coming!” Dom said again, mustering every bit of dwindling strength he had left.

He pulled himself up one stair, his feet still dangling. Then he made it to the next. Glenn’s fingers wrapped around his forearm. With the Hunter’s help, Dom hoisted himself up the final stairs. He managed to get a foothold and pushed himself up the rest of the way. Panting, he knelt with his palms flat on the catwalk.

“Thanks,” he said between breaths.

“No problem, Captain,” Glenn said. He started to stand.

A gurgling sounded from behind Glenn. Dom forgot about his exhaustion and shot up at once. A Drooler was waddling toward them. Its sick gurgling grew louder, ready to spew acid at any moment.

“It’s going to blow!” Miguel yelled.

Dom had no time to run from the creature. The best he could do was shield Glenn’s body with his own. Or—

He lunged as the first bubbles popped from the Drooler’s mouth. He grabbed the creature’s arms, holding them flat against its chest with one hand, and clutched its horns with the other. With one leg, he kicked out the creature’s feet. When the acid started to spray, Dom twisted its head.

Instead of pouring over Glenn, the acid splattered against the Goliath and the other Skulls milling around it. The Goliath swatted as if it could bat the liquid away. It let out an agonized roar. Acid continued to spray from the Drooler’s mouth. Dom yanked the creature’s head back and forth, using the Skull’s weapon against its abominable brethren. Skulls went wild when the spray cut through their armor and ate at their skin. Sizzling and screaming sounded from the writhing horde.

“Fuck yeah, Chief!” Miguel yelled, pumping a fist in the air.

When the Drooler’s acid slowed to a trickle, Dom lifted the scrawny creature and tossed it at one of the two remaining Goliaths. It smacked against the monster’s armor. The Goliath ignored the flailing Drooler until Renee hit the creature with a salvo. Rounds lanced into the Drooler’s swollen belly, cutting holes through the flesh. It exploded. Acid splattered against the Goliath, and its ribs started to dissolve.

“Take him down!” Dom ordered.

Each bullet that connected with the giant’s exposed lungs and beating heart sent the monster teetering. It faltered, its eyes rolling up, and then lurched with its claws clutching its chest. The Goliath toppled. It obliterated several smaller Skulls when it hit the floor.

But the third Goliath hadn’t suffered from the debilitating acid spray. It almost seemed to grin. Dom watched in horror as it plunged its claws into an idle bioreactor. They cut into the metal, and the Goliath used the improvised handholds to hoist itself up. The Hunters fired at the monster, but it ducked its head. Bullets smacked into its horns and hardened skull.

Other Skulls started leaping after the Goliath. They clambered over its body, using the giant’s jutting spikes like a ladder. The first couple scrambled over the Goliath’s head and jumped. Their claws caught on the catwalk. Dom used his handgun to send one back to the floor far below, and Jenna ended the others.

But more climbed up. Their bones rattled, and their hunting cries bounced off the walls of the cavernous room. Dom’s slide locked back. Empty. He switched mags while Jenna and Renee sent a stream of white-hot lead into the creatures determined to reach the catwalk.

“Chief!” Miguel yelled over the din. He pointed to the open ventilation shaft where the Drooler had come from.

“Spencer, check it out!” Dom ordered.

The Hunter stopped firing and dashed over. Miguel helped boost the man into the shaft. Spencer slung his rifle over his shoulder and climbed the rest of the way in. His boots disappeared into the darkness.

“Looks clear!” the man barked over the comm link.

“Hunters, get ready!”

Glenn, Jenna, and Renee started a slow retreat from their position. They still swept their muzzles over the Skulls clambering onto the Goliath.

“Spencer, where’s it lead?” Dom asked.

“I’m at an intersection. Looks like it branches—” Silence. “What the fuck?”

A bloodcurdling yell blasted through the comm link. Dom slapped a hand over his ear and recoiled from the noise.

“Oh, god. Shit!” Spencer’s yells resonated over the comm link and from the ventilation shaft simultaneously. The entire silver shaft began to buck and shake. Spencer’s boots came out first as he backed out. Glenn and Miguel helped lower the man. Spencer held his hands over his eyes. Steam sizzled from under his gloves. He moaned in agony.

“Come on, man! What’s wrong?” Glenn asked, prying the man’s hands away.

Miguel was already tearing gauze and antiseptic from his tac vest. Glenn managed to get one hand away. A deep hole of despair cut through Dom’s gut at the sight. The skin on the right side of Spencer’s face was covered in green-brown liquid. Skin blistered and popped. Blood oozed from his wounds as acid ate away at his flesh.

“Jenna, Renee, look out!” Dom shouted at the Hunters closest to the shaft.

The two trained their rifles into the darkness. Dom ran to Spencer and pulled his water supply from his back. He dumped the cool liquid over Spencer’s burning flesh. The man howled in pain, a noise gruesome enough to rival the Skulls’ cries. When the blistering didn’t stop, Glenn splashed his water over the injured Hunter’s face. Dom looked between the shaft, the climbing Goliath, and Spencer.

They were trapped.

Glenn finished pouring a third bottle of water over Spencer. The man continued to moan, but the blistering seemed to have stopped. Miguel bent over the man and quickly sprayed an antiseptic onto the grisly injuries, followed by a hemostatic gel to staunch his bleeding. Glenn helped wrap the wound.

“There it is!” Renee cried. Her rifle barked, followed by Jenna’s, as a Drooler flopped out of the ventilation shaft and onto the catwalk.

“Move Spencer!” Dom yelled, waving Glenn and Miguel to help get the Hunter out of harm’s way.

He trained his gun on the Drooler. The monster twisted its head, slowly, shakily. One of its arms ended in clean, white bone. Mud-colored acidic bile seemed to leak from every orifice of its body. It seeped from the open wounds in the monster’s chest, trickled from the hole where its mouth should be, dripped from its eye sockets. The Skull had slowly been eaten away by its own acidic discharge.

Dom kicked the monster’s body into the waiting crowd of Skulls below. Flecks of acid sprayed from it as Renee and Jenna lit it up with gunfire. But the splattering acid was not as intense as the burst from the earlier Drooler.

Despite Spencer’s injuries, Dom knew the only way they could escape the horde below was through that shaft. He shone a light into it, peering in to ensure no one would be ambushed again. The light reflected off drips of acid, but no other lingering Droolers appeared.

“We’ve got to move!” he yelled. “I’ll take point.”

He started to lift himself in. The catwalk shook suddenly, knocking him off balance. He crashed against a handrail; his fingers barely caught it as his boots slipped from under him. Renee screamed as the catwalk nearest her was pulled down by a set of massive claws. The Goliath had reached the walkway. Its weight dragged the structure down, and the Hunters scrambled for handholds, desperate to prevent themselves from tumbling into the hungry mouths below.

Dom would be damned if he didn’t take a few of these monsters out with him. He hoisted himself up, balancing precariously on the shaking walkway. Three Skulls climbed over the Goliath and latched onto the catwalk. One dragged itself forward, its muscles pulsating underneath the plates along its arm. It stood, leaning slightly to its left. Dom saw its ankle was bent at an unnatural angle. The normally debilitating injury barely slowed it down as it limped toward Jenna. Jenna’s own injured ankle prevented her from running. Renee grabbed her and pulled the Hunter away. She tried to fire one-handedly at the Skulls, but the shots went wide. The kickback on the rifle was too much.

“Hold your fire!” Dom bellowed, leaping over Jenna. He ran at the limping Skull. Like a linebacker, he slammed into the monster. He sent an elbow deep into the creature’s stomach. Bone plates fractured. Pain radiated up Dom’s arm, but he ignored it.

The creature bashed Dom’s helmet. Flashes of red blurred his vision. But he carried on, pushing the monster back. With only one working foot, the Skull staggered. Dom landed a devastating uppercut into the monster’s chin. The creature’s head flicked back. More bones and skeletal plates cracked and fragmented. Its tongue lolled out, and its eyes rolled back.

Dom kept charging, kept pushing the monster back. The limbs of other creatures flailed, caught behind the knocked-out Skull. He grabbed the injured Skull’s neck and used the monster like a riot shield. With his right hand, he pulled out his sidearm. At point-blank range, he sent lead straight through the orbital cavities of the two nearest Skulls. His teeth gritted and veins bulging in his neck, Dom continued the push. More shots, more shoving. He dug into the catwalk with his boots, summoning every ounce of strength he could muster. With a loud cry, he threw everything he had into one tremendous push. He managed to knock six creatures over the side of the catwalk.

Their bodies collided with others, causing a cascade of demonic monsters. Those that fell were soon trampled by others with no qualms about taking their defeated kin’s place. Dom felt ready to heave, his stomach turning inside out at the tremendous effort he’d exerted. He collapsed to his knees as the catwalk shook again. The Goliath tore at the flimsy walkway from its perch on a bioreactor. It bared its tusks in a menacing snarl and wrapped both clawed hands around the end of the catwalk. Other Skulls limber enough to escape the Goliath’s attack prowled toward Dom.

Gunfire sounded from behind him. “Got ya’ back, Chief,” Miguel said. He picked off the first couple. Glenn joined in, followed by Renee. Jenna fired from her seated position while holding Spencer in place. The man still writhed in agony, but at least he was alive.

We’re all alive, Dom thought. And he’d make sure they stayed that way. He met the Goliath’s beady eyes and stood slowly. He had no rifle to offer fire support. His pistol’s ammo was depleted, too. But he’d taken more than one of those bastard Goliaths down on his own.

“Don’t do it,” Miguel said, seeming to sense Dom’s plan. “Come on.”

The Goliath roared. More bolts popped as the wires holding the walkway to the ceiling flew out. Dom wrapped his fingers around the handle of his blade. He knew right where to put it to stop the giant bastard in its tracks.

-33-

––––––––

Dom prepared to lunge at the Goliath. His muscles coiled, and he tightened his grip around the knife. But before he could spring, an enormous explosion shook the bioreactor room.

The Goliath shifted, almost falling. Its claws plunged into the shredded bioreactor.

A second blast rocked the room. The torn appendages and torsos of devastated Skulls flew up near one of the doors. Fingers of flame shot out around the creatures like a beast straight from hell coming to reclaim its minions. Debris and dust plumed up in a gray cloud.

Surviving Skulls scattered, confused by the raucous noise. Bits of the ceiling and broken pipes crashed down. A gaping void was left in the wall. The creatures started cautiously approaching the spot where the blasts had emanated from.

Another low rumble sounded. This time, it was more distant. But whatever had caused it, the flashing alarms went silent. The Goliath’s head cocked to the side. It eyed the hole in the wall, then the Hunters on the catwalk. Gunfire burst from the settling dust like flashes of lightning.

“Come on, asshole!” a voice rang out.

Dom’s heart kicked as rapidly as the automatic gunfire. He knew that voice. It was Meredith.

The Goliath took a final glance at Dom. Bullets smashed against its armor and cracked into the side of its head. Meredith stood her ground, spraying the Goliath even as Skulls on the ground dashed toward her.

“Meredith, run!” Dom yelled.

She ignored him. Dirt and dried blood covered her face. Her jaw remained clenched and her gaze focused. The Goliath leapt from the bioreactor. It crashed down on a pack of smaller Skulls. Their bodies crunched under it like insect carcasses. It charged Meredith, and as it loped, it flung other Skulls from its path. Their bodies careened into the walls and splattered in bloody messes.

Dom watched helplessly. Just before the Goliath reached her, Meredith sprinted away. She disappeared down the hall, and Dom could no longer see her. But the report of her rifle continued. The Goliath followed her, its minions roiling in hot pursuit. After a moment, the gunfire went silent, and Dom’s heart sank.

***

“Now, Andris!” Meredith cried. She dove over a pile of heavy desks and fallen bookshelves. Throwing her hands over the back of her neck and crouching, she squeezed her eyes shut.

A thunderous explosion boomed down the corridor. Fiery heat rushed over her. The concussion picked her body up, and she slammed into a wall. Even through her closed eyelids she could see the blinding white light of the blast. A shrill ringing echoed in her ears, and she stumbled to her feet. Andris rushed down the hallway to meet her. He dropped the detonator and caught her in both hands.

The armor plates in his tac vest had protected his heart and lungs. The Marines’ bullets had knocked the air from him, and he’d been rendered momentarily unconscious when he hit the ground. But he was alive. And goddammit, so was she.

He mouthed something that Meredith couldn’t hear. She thought it looked like, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, though the sounds were muddled. She felt like she was chewing cotton. “Are you okay?”

He bobbed his head and then shouldered his rifle. Meredith’s eardrums started to burn with an intense pain, but the sound of crackling fire, gunshots, and distant cries of the Skulls were still loud enough to pierce her damaged hearing. She pressed the stock of her rifle to her shoulder and swept the muzzle across the wreckage. Fire enveloped the walls. Electrical cords snapped like snakes, sparking from the ceiling, which was torn open like a fatal wound. Pieces of unrecognizable gray flesh and splinters of bone were strewn across the floor. The Goliath lay on its side—its only remaining side. The other half of its body had been annihilated in the blast.

“He’s more fucked than me,” Andris said, forcing a laugh.

Meredith couldn’t help the strange emotion twisting through her like a tornado. A mixture of relief, giddiness, and fear stormed through her. They’d actually done it. They’d brought down the bastard and a whole menagerie of the smaller beasts around it. But more creatures would continue to flood the building. Far too many for this plan to work again.

“Let’s get the others!” Meredith yelled. She leapt back over the barricade of desks and bookshelves. Andris followed. Their boots slapped sickeningly over the gore as they traced their way back to the bioreactor room.

A smattering of remaining Skulls lingered on the ground. A couple climbed the destroyed staircase at one end of the catwalk, while others leapt over each other in a fruitless effort to reach the isolated Hunters. Jenna, Glenn, Miguel, and Renee worked to pick off the remaining Skulls. Dom was helping Spencer. Meredith could see from where she stood that the man’s face was covered in bandages, but at least he was alive. In fact, it seemed all the Hunters, now reunited, were alive.

“Dom!” Meredith yelled, waving from the bottom floor. Andris brought down a few more Skulls. “We have to move! More are coming!”

A nearby Skull lunged, and she leveled her rifle at it. Holes formed in its face, and it went down, sliding into another mangled corpse. She and Andris fired their way through the remaining Skulls. They made it to the bottom of the destroyed staircase. The others started to climb down. Miguel came first. Glenn followed, helping Dom carry Spencer down. The man groaned but managed to stand when he reached the bottom.

Dom leapt the rest of the way. His boots smacked against the floor, and he recovered a rifle, one he must’ve lost earlier, from a pile of Skulls. He ran to Meredith and wrapped both arms around her. His embrace hurt her bruised ribs, but she didn’t care. She returned the hug.

“Thought I might not see you again,” Dom said and then pulled back. Dried blood was caked along his face. “I’m sorry. You were right.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, brushing her gloved thumb over his cheek.

The sound of gunfire broke up their reunion, and Meredith turned to see a Skull fall to Renee’s rifle. The staircase, serving more as a ladder, started to buckle and pull away from the catwalk when Renee was halfway down. Metal shrieked as the last remaining wires and bolts holding it upright tore. Renee jumped before the whole structure came crashing down. She tucked her body and rolled then sprang up.

“Tada!” the former gymnast said, looking around as if expecting applause.

“Nice trick saving our asses,” Dom said.

Andris winked. “Always told you, I know explosives.”

“And I take it you’ve got a way to get us out of this mess?”

Andris shrugged. “Maybe.” He pulled a detonator from his pocket and depressed the trigger.

Dom stared, waiting for something to explode.

“Not like that,” Andris said. “Not this time.”

Hissing sounded from somewhere in the distance. Smoke started to billow out of the busted ventilation shaft, carried by a current of air.

“Thought you guys killed the power?” Miguel asked.

“Just to the security systems,” Meredith said.

Smoke started to fill the bioreactor room, obscuring the Hunters’ vision.

“Thermal time,” Dom said.

The Hunters clicked their goggles into place. Meredith did likewise, and her world became bathed in bright splashes of red, orange, blue, and green. The smokescreen would obscure the Skulls’ vision, but it would be no problem for them.

“Follow me.” She guided the Hunters into the corridor. A flash of orange appeared before her, but she quickly dispatched the hissing monster with a spray of gunfire. In a matter of minutes, she guided them through the narrow corridors and outside. Smoke billowed from the vents in the side of the building. Enough to obscure everything in close proximity to the VPPL. Enough to hide them from Kinsey’s choppers overhead.

“Where do we go from here?” Dom asked.

Meredith grinned. “Remember how that backstabbing bastard Kinsey mentioned the metro station?”

Dom nodded. “He hasn’t secured it yet, has he?”

“What if it’s overrun with Skulls?” Glenn asked, one arm holding Spencer up.

“The whole goddamned world is overrun with Skulls,” Miguel replied. “At least down there we can get away from prying eyes.” He looked at Meredith. “So is this whole shit-show Kinsey’s fault?”

“It was. I think he used you all as bait, but he wants me.”

“Who else at the CIA knew about you investigating the Amanojaku Project?” Dom asked, peering around another corner.

“When I defected, only my boss, David Lawson, knew.” She added the extra info for the benefit of the other Hunters who might not know the full story. “But I don’t know who he might’ve told.”

The sounds of men yelling and gunfire echoed over the campus. Skulls shrieked. An agonized, human cry hit Meredith’s ears, followed by the sickening sounds of flesh tearing and being devoured.

“We’ll figure it out later,” Dom said. “For now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Meredith nodded. She checked her smartwatch map one more time and then sprinted across a parking lot filled with the husks of charred vehicles and corpses of dead Skulls and humans alike. The others followed. They flitted between the useless ambulances, Humvees, and sedans. Something grabbed at her boot from under a car. She swung her rifle down at a blackened hand. A singed Skull pulled itself from under the vehicle. It looked up at her with one eye hanging out of its socket. Its mouth opened in a weak, but angry, growl. Ropey intestines dragged from the bottom of its torso where its legs no longer existed. Meredith plugged a single shot into the monster’s head to end its misery.

She led the Hunters the rest of the way through the parking lot and toward the wide, dark opening before them. There it was. The entrance to the metro. Their boots clanged along the frozen escalators as they rushed underground.

Meredith’s vision once again switched, this time to green, white, and black hues. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw nothing moving in the darkness. Dom held a fist up when they reached the cavernous underground platform. A single train sat idle on the track. Dark splotches stained the cracked windows. She saw shreds of clothing and discarded bones with their marrow sucked dry. Still, no Skulls.

“Which way?” Meredith asked, glancing at Dom.

He stared at the two different tunnels leading away from the track. One went north, back into Maryland. The other led south, toward DC. She already knew which direction Dom intended to go before he pointed. They both wanted to get some answers, and Kinsey was holing up at the Pentagon.

The Hunters fell in behind him, fanning out to cover the wide track. They marched in silence. After about half an hour, they came upon another train. The clicks of claws against glass sounded from inside it in an eerie, rhythmic beat. They pushed on, avoiding any confrontation with the creatures imprisoned within the train. They passed other metro stations where tableaus no less gruesome than the one near the NIH campus greeted them. Bloody blotches on walls. Scattered bones. Backpacks and suitcases left to rot. Meredith spotted a pair of small, pink shoes near the station’s turnstile entrance. Looking away, she focused on the tracks.

Deep underground, they had no connection with the outside world. She wondered, even if they were topside, if they’d hear from Frank or anyone aboard the Huntress again. The Hunters trudged on, alone in the darkness. Meredith shivered, taken by a cool breeze as the air in the tunnel shifted. She glanced at Dom, leading the group of men and women in grim silence. She had no doubt as to the immense weight on his mind. He’d almost lost his daughters once. Now he might’ve lost them again. And all the progress they’d achieved toward fighting the Oni Agent, toward righting the wrongs imparted on the world by the founders of the IBSL and the Amanojaku Project, might be gone too. She’d thought they’d actually stood a chance. That they’d actually be able to turn the tide of this increasingly desperate war of biological attrition.

But now she wasn’t so sure. She hung her head for a moment. She could hear Spencer’s slow groans as he trudged onward. She couldn’t imagine the pain from his Drooler-inflicted wounds. She admired the Hunter’s determination to keep going, to keep taking one more step. She wouldn’t give up so long as that man trooped on. She imagined each of the Hunters shared that sentiment. She’d fought beside them long enough to understand no situation, no matter how despairing, would convince them to sit idly by and let death take them willingly.

They’d march through as many dark tunnels as it took. They’d fight as many goddamned Skulls as they could. They’d take this fight wherever it might lead them, even if they no longer had the support of the US military or, even worse, the Huntress itself. And Meredith knew all this was true for each of the Hunters whose footfalls echoed in the empty tunnel. Because they had Dom, a man who would march through the hottest bowels of hell if it meant he could save a single life.

She caught up to Dom and walked by his side. “To the end, Captain,” she said, slipping her hand into his. He looked down at it in surprise for a moment and then tightened his fingers around hers.

“To the end,” he agreed.

-34-

––––––––

Shepherd ushered Rachel and Rory up the stairs. He had no idea where he was going, but he figured that since they’d come down a flight of stairs when they’d been imprisoned, going up was the right direction. He rounded a corner. Another soldier-turned-Skull raced at him. It still wore a helmet and a fully intact set of combat fatigues. Shepherd squeezed his trigger, and a cluster of red, bleeding wounds formed in the freshly turned Skull’s chest. It collapsed to the stone floor.

“Keep going!” Shepherd yelled, hurdling over the fallen creature. The two midshipmen ran behind him, clutching rifles they’d picked up from other fallen soldiers.

“Here! This way!” a man’s voice shouted down a nearby corridor.

Shepherd pressed himself flat against the wall. The midshipmen did likewise. At an intersection several yards away, a squad of Marines ran past. They seemed intent on reaching whatever destination they had in mind and didn’t so much as glance at the trio of escaped prisoners.

They pressed on and went up another set of staircases. A metal door opened to the cold rush of air. Outside at last. But Shepherd’s momentary relief quickly faded. He scanned their surroundings with his rifle. Thick tree trunks stood sentinel around them. A dirt road, lined with bushes, wound between the trees. Scattered military vehicles idled in the middle of the road. Gunfire sounded all around them. Shapes flitted between shadows.

Shepherd signaled for the midshipmen to run in a crouch. They used a low-lying stone wall for cover and followed it until they reached a line of trees. Skulls darted through the foliage, and bullets ripped indiscriminately around them. But Shepherd had no intention of getting mired in a gunfight with either the Skulls or the soldiers.

He lowered himself to his belly and army-crawled under a tangle of bushes. Their spiky evergreen leaves scratched his scalp and face. Crunching branches behind him told him the midshipmen were still on his tail. A loud shriek sounded to his left, and Shepherd shouldered his rifle, still lying flat on his stomach. Sweat beaded down his forehead. He could hear Rachel and Rory’s breathing pause as they held their breath.

The beast bounded toward the explosive chatter of rifles and machine guns, away from their position. Shepherd and the midshipmen kept crawling, using the underbrush as cover. After what seemed like hours, the gunfire became sporadic. Only the occasional distant crack of a rifle broke the chorus of singing birds and wind whistling through the trees. He raised himself to a crouch and scanned the woods with his rifle. No Skulls leapt out. No soldiers ordered them to drop their weapons.

“Move out!” Shepherd called as he broke into a run. He hoped to put as much ground as possible between the prison and them. They jogged through the forest. Shepherd used the infrequent glimpses of the sun through the branches to guess they were headed roughly east. He had no concept of what time it was—or even what day it was—but he did the best he could. He figured eventually they’d run into another road or at least find higher ground to figure out where the hell they were.

Finally, they made it to a clearing. The sound of rushing water drew Shepherd’s attention. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. After his torture, he had doubted he’d ever want to drink anything again. Rachel and Rory followed him toward the river, their eyes wide and their faces covered in dirt. He climbed a small hill to survey the land and immediately recognized where they were from the old fort he spotted across the water.

“What’s that?” Rachel asked.

“Fort Washington,” Shepherd said. “Originally destroyed in the war of 1812.”

“Wait, that’s south of DC,” Rachel said. Shepherd could see the gears turning inside her head. “Which means...”

“We’re in Virginia.” Shepherd gestured toward the river. “And this is the Potomac.”

“So what now?” Rory asked.

“Good question.” Shepherd trod down to the muddy-brown water. It wasn’t his first choice for drinking water, but his dry throat and tongue urged him on. He splashed water over his face and drank some. The midshipmen joined in.

Shepherd looked down the bank of the river. “There’s a bunch of towns all along the water. Maybe we find one with a boat. Head back to Kent Island.”

Rachel’s eyes seemed to light up. “You said you think those people are blaming Meredith and Dom for the Oni Agent outbreak, right?”

“Right,” Shepherd said.

“Do you believe them?” Rory asked.

Shepherd didn’t hesitate. “No. Not those two.”

“Good,” Rachel said. “Because I don’t buy it either. And we definitely need to go to Kent.”

Rory smiled wistfully. “Too bad you don’t still have that—”

“The radio,” Rachel cut him off. “I’ve got a radio Captain Holland gave me to call his ship if we were ever in trouble. But it’s at Kent.”

“If we get it, we can reach him and the Huntress?” Shepherd asked.

Rachel nodded.

Shepherd stood, slinging his rifle over his back. “Then we have no time to waste. We have to warn Dom before it’s too late.”

***

Dom shielded his eyes as the Hunters marched up the stairs to the metro station’s entrance. With his rifle at the ready, he led them up into a small plaza surrounded by glass walls.

“Through there,” Dom whispered, using his hand to indicate the door to a coffee shop.

The shop appeared strangely untouched. Stacks of paper cups stood beside quiet machines filled with coffee that had long since gone bad. A few moldy prepackaged sandwiches rested in a display case. Dom tried another door at the back of the shop. When the handle wouldn’t turn, he bashed it with the stock of his rifle. The metal handle clanged and fell away. Dom nudged the door open, and the Hunters filed in. Wire racks of sugar packets, prepackaged pastries, and bottles of juice and water greeted them. They hungrily tore into the supplies.

Dom tried his comm link once more. “Huntress, this is Dom,” he called tentatively. Nothing. He tried the public channel that connected the Huntress, Frank’s AW109, and all the Hunters’ comm links. “Anyone out there? Dom here.”

Again nothing.

Meredith brought him a bottle of water. “You okay?”

Before he could answer, Meredith shook her head. “I know that’s a stupid question. Your daughters, the ship...”

“Won’t know if I’m okay until we hear from them,” Dom said. Anxiety was killing him, but he couldn’t show it now. Not when his team was relying on him. He needed to stay alive, needed to keep his team alive, if there was going to be any chance of finding Kara and Sadie.

Dom let the Hunters finish packing as much food and water as they could. Glenn gave Spencer another shot of heavy painkillers.

Dom led the weary group out of the storage room and into a concrete-floored corridor that serviced all the ground-floor shops. He spotted an exit sign and pushed the door open. Beyond it, he found a staircase. They followed it up, their rifles bristling all the way. He placed his hand on the door handle and steeled himself for what he was about to see, then opened the door.

Warm sunlight danced over them again as the group spread out on the rooftop of the building. They were overlooking the National Mall from the south. The Capitol Building stood to their right. Ahead of them rose the towering Washington Monument, and to their left were the various war memorials leading to the Lincoln Memorial and the Tidal Basin.

There was a new memorial spread out across the vast green lawns of the Mall, a tribute to a war still ongoing. Scattered military vehicles were strewn about. Corpses—Skulls or humans, it wasn’t all clear from their vantage point—were scattered everywhere. Smoke plumed from the windows of the domed Capitol Building, and fires still burned near vacated military barricades. There were no sirens. No sounds of gunfire. No cries for help. Just the occasional howl of a Skull. Masses of the creatures lingered in the streets. Dom figured they’d devoured all the prey they could, cleaned the city out of all but its most stubborn human inhabitants. The creatures had nothing left to eat and were wandering aimlessly until some poor soul got their attention.

Dom wouldn’t let that soul be one of his Hunters. From what he could see, taking the metro tunnels south would be their best bet for survival. They’d gathered enough supplies for now to tide them over. Escape would be their next priority.

A hiss of static came over his comm link. “What was that?” Renee asked.

The comm links hissed again. A muddled voice broke through, but Dom couldn’t recognize it.

Another hiss, crackling static, then, “Dom, this is Adam. Do you read? Dom, this is—”

“Adam!” Dom said. A million questions flooded through his mind. He tried to remain cool, but he was afraid of what answers he might have. “Glad to hear a familiar voice. Can you give me a sitrep on the Huntress?”

“Neg—” Static. Then the words came through clear. “Negative. Sorry, Dom. Had to modify an old comm link with a new antenna for better range. Wasn’t easy.”

“The Huntress, Adam. Are you all safe?”

“I’m not on the ship. It was taken by the US military.”

Dom’s stomach twisted, and his thoughts turned dark for a second. The other Hunters stared at him, worried looks on their faces. “What about my girls?”

“They’re safe.”

An enormous deluge of relief overcame Dom at that simple phrase. A storm of worries still plagued him, but the knowledge his daughters were safe was like a lighthouse’s beam piercing a relentlessly dark night, showing him a path of hope. “Can I talk to them?”

“Of course.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, “Dad?”

“Kara! How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Kara said, almost breathless. “Sadie’s here with me. Navid and Maggie, too. We made it off the ship thanks to Adam.”

“We escaped, Dad,” Sadie piped in. “On a boat!”

“He got you all off the ship before it was taken?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Remind me to tell him he deserves a raise.”

“There’s something else, Dad,” Kara said.

“What? What is it?”

“We think we found a molecule that can work in a vaccine. Something to stop the Oni Agent.”

Dom wanted to be overjoyed at the news, but he feared a computer simulation of a molecule was worthless when they had no facilities or means of producing that vaccine. Still, it gave them hope for a future. And nothing could overshadow the relief of hearing his daughters’ voices. “That’s great, sweetheart. Where exactly are you?”

“Mount Vernon!” Sadie said cheerfully. “Remember the chickens from last time, Daddy? And you bought me that ice cream? Remember?”

“Where are you?” Adam interjected.

“We’re in Washington. If you all are safe, I want you stay there,” Dom said. The Hunters were already adjusting their packs and rifle straps. This would be the second time Dom traveled across the Skull-infested country to reunite with his daughters. “We’ll come to you.”

“Then what, Captain?” Adam asked.

“Then we get our goddamned ship back.”

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The End of Book 3

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Thank you for reading The Tide: Salvage. If you enjoyed this book, would you please leave a review here?

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The story continues in The Tide: Deadrise, Book 4 of the Tide series. You can pick up your copy here: http://amzn.to/2aVBEF0

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Would you like to know when the next book in the Tide series comes out? Sign up here: http://bit.ly/ajmlist

You’ll also receive a free story, Fatal Injection, for signing up.

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I love to hear from my readers. If you want to get in touch, there are a number of ways to reach me.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/anthonyjmelchiorri

Email: ajm@anthonyjmelchiorri.com

Website: http://www.anthonyjmelchiorri.com

Also by Anthony J Melchiorri

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Enhancement (Black Market DNA #1)

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In the year 2058, Baltimore’s latest crime epidemic is illegal genetic enhancements. Convicted dealer Christopher Morgan finds himself on a hit-list before he’s even released from prison. In a race for survival, he must uncover a shocking conspiracy involving organized crime and genetic engineering.

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1rhSboa

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Malignant (Black Market DNA #2)

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A genetically engineered and unstoppable cancer is spreading through Baltimore’s citizens. Christopher Morgan eagerly joins Doctor Robin Haynes on a quest to engineer a cure. As the cancer spreads across the country, they discover the disease may be connected to a criminal organization. With the body count rising, they find themselves embroiled in something deeper than they ever imagined—an underground world of scientific intrigue, organized crime, and medical conspiracies.

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1xkBiyh

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Variant (Black Market DNA #3)

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While treating a patient, Robin discovers a dangerous pathogen long-since thought to be eradicated. Her investigations lead to a startling and terrifying revelation. Now, Chris Morgan may be the only one that can help her uncover the truth. 

A powerful adversary from Chris’s past has returned. The lives of thousands, maybe millions, are at stake. 

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1NgIti3

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Fatal Injection (A Black Market DNA Novella)

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Baltimore PD Officer Ana Dellaporta must unravel a sinister plot involving missing persons, murder, and genetic experimentation. And when one of her close friends goes missing, she must uncover the gruesome truth before the trail goes cold and her friend becomes the next victim.

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1BRcAEf

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The God Organ

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Brilliant biomedical scientist Preston Carter introduces an implantable artificial organ designed to grant its recipients near-immortality. But many of those recipients are suddenly dying. With the organ already implanted in his own body, Carter must uncover the truth before he’s killed by his own invention.

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1yjmMGF

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The Human Forged

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Former Army Specialist Nick Corrigan is abducted and unwittingly becomes embroiled in a biotechnological nightmare. He embarks on a dangerous adventure to return home. The only person that might be able to help him is a man Nick never knew existed—his clone. 

Back in Washington, CIA analyst Sara Monahan makes a startling discovery while tracking the use of biological weapons in an ongoing war in Africa. She races to uncover a global conspiracy that may shake the very essence of what it means to be human. 

Find it here: http://bit.ly/thf14

About the Author

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Anthony J Melchiorri is a scientist with a PhD in bioengineering. Originally from the Midwest, he now lives in Texas. By day, he develops cellular therapies and 3D-printable artificial organs. By night, he writes apocalyptic, medical, and science-fiction thrillers that blend real-world research with other-worldly possibility. When he isn't in the lab or at the keyboard, he spends his time running, reading, hiking, and traveling in search of new story ideas.

Read more at http://anthonyjmelchiorri.com and sign up for his mailing list at http://bit.ly/ajmlist to hear about his latest releases and news.