Extinction Age

-17-

The white walls of the spacesuit room pressed in on Kate. She sat on a stool facing Ellis and Sergeant Lombardi. All three of them were staring at the secure glass door leading into the hallway.

That’s where the Variants would come from if they breached the fences. Like her old lab at the CDC building in Atlanta, the doors were designed to stop anything short of a grenade. But Kate wasn’t worried about the reinforced glass—she was worried about the ceiling. If the monsters made it into the building, they would use the ventilation system. The filtered vents were meant to prevent microscopic monsters from entering, not Variants. If they breached the system, the only thing to stop them was Lombardi’s rifle.

Kate shivered as she sat there. The spacesuit room was their designated emergency location, but she hardly felt safe here. Fear prickled through her body as she waited for the fourth time in a month for the monsters to come. She resisted the urge to cover her ears against the electronic whine of sirens echoing in the small room. Instead, she eyed the rifle Lombardi aimed at the door. It was the same model she had used to kill Patient 12 in Building 4. If she had to, she could fire it again.

The flashback of that night rolled across her mind. She could still hear the phantom scratching of the creature’s claws as it skittered across the ceiling and the popping of its joints before she had killed it with a simple squeeze of the rifle’s trigger.

The crackle of Lombardi’s radio pulled her from the memory. She shivered again and wrapped her arms across her chest.

“What are they saying?” Ellis shouted over the alarms.

Lombardi brought the radio to his ear and then shook his head. “Nothing new.”

Kate strained to hear the sound of distant gunshots. Before, it had been a constant chatter, but now it was intermittent. That meant they had stopped the Variants at the beach… or else they had been overrun.

Either way, they would know soon.

The red glow of emergency lights danced across the hallway on the other side of the glass like a strobe light from hell. Kate froze when she saw a flash of motion at the far end of the corridor.

Lombardi had seen it too. While she backed away, he took a step closer and said, “Get behind me.”

Kate moved with Ellis to the other end of the small space. She clenched her fists and crouched on the floor. Two figures were rushing down the hallway outside the door, their bodies bending and distorting in the bath of red light. Kate wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the apparitions moving inside the swirling red glow. Her heart skipped when she saw a flicker of pale skin.

Lombardi locked his shoulders and took a guarded step away from the door as the sirens suddenly stopped. The emergency lights clicked off, and the banks of white LEDs spread a carpet of white over two middle-aged Medical Corps soldiers.

Lombardi slowly lowered his rifle. “Corporal Cooper, Corporal Berg,” he said with a sigh. “Jesus, you guys scared the shit out of me.”

The soldiers stepped up to the door directly under the LEDs. They were Wood’s men—that was obvious by their black fatigues. Both were built like linebackers, with broad shoulders and slim torsos. They had matching black mustaches and the same short crew cuts under their helmets. If it weren’t for Cooper’s darker skin, Kate would have assumed they were twins.

Berg punched the comm link and said, “Sorry for the scare, Lombardi. My radio is busted or I would have told you I was coming.” He glanced back at the Kate and Ellis. “Doctors, the base is clear. Command has lifted the lockdown,” he said. “They stopped the Variant assault on the beach.”

Lombardi gave a thumbs up to the soldiers and then faced Kate and Ellis. “All clear to get back into the lab.”

Kate wrapped her arms across her chest. “Is Beckham back?

Lombardi plucked the radio from his fatigues. “Command, Lombardi requesting a status update on Echo 2.”

The response took a few moments. Enough time for Kate to consider the worst. She moved to the observation window as they waited and looked out over the BSL-4 lab.

Lombardi turned the radio volume up so they could all hear Corporal Hook’s reply. “Lombardi, Command. Echo 2 is back safe and sound. They found three survivors in Niantic.”

“Survivors?” Ellis asked. “After all this time?”

“Sounds like it,” Lombardi replied. “I better get to my post. Corporal Berg and Corporal Cooper will escort you to your quarters.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Kate said. She checked her watch. It had been six hours since they injected the mice with the adjuvant solution of peptide sequences. Their immune systems would be kicking in now. She tried her best to forget the attack on the island. She was exhausted, but there was work to do.

Ellis ran a hand through his slicked-back hair and joined her. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Suit up,” Kate said.

Ellis strolled over to his spacesuit. He spoke as he dressed. “The Variants are growing more desperate, Kate,” he said. “If they attacked the beach, that means they’re starving. Like any animal, they’ll get more and more erratic and vicious.”

“I know, Ellis. I know.”

She pulled her keycard and waved it over the security panel to their lab. Cooper and Berg hung back in the hallway, watching from a distance.

“What’s with the twins?” Kate asked. “Since when do we warrant armed guards outside the lab?”

Ellis glanced over his shoulder as they entered. “No idea, but looks like they’re sticking around.”

Kate wasn’t going to complain about extra security as long as they stayed out of her hair.

“Let’s check the mice,” she said. She hurried over to the cages. Most of the creatures were sleeping or hiding. She stuck her hands in both sides of one of the cages and used the internal gloves to grab a mouse. It struggled in her grip, twisting and squirming to get free. As it wiggled, she felt something unusual along its chest. She turned the mouse to see its stomach and spotted a tiny bump in its flesh.

“Shit,” Kate whispered.

“What?” Ellis furrowed his brow.

“This one’s growing a tumor.”

“Damn. That could really mess up its immune system, so I guess it can’t be one of our antibody donors anymore.”

“Right, if it has cancer, it isn’t much use to us.” Kate studied the tiny bump. She knew tumors—especially mammary gland tumors like this one appeared to be—were common enough in rats and mice, afflicting almost two-thirds of those that weren’t spayed. “We can’t afford to lose any more if we want to start producing a mass supply of antibodies soon.”

“Speaking of that, we need to figure out what we’re attaching our antibodies to. I wish we could find something to use on the Variants that we already have in our stockpiles of drugs,” Ellis said. “That way we wouldn’t have to waste time manufacturing something new to knock out the Variants’ stem cells.”

A sudden epiphany struck Kate. “What did you say?”

“It would cut down on the manufacturing—”

“No, about the stockpiles.”

“Oh, I was just thinking out loud,” he said airily.

“I think you might be onto something though.”

Ellis finished keying his credentials into his computer and glanced up.

“Maybe we do already have something that we could use,” Kate said, looking back at the sick mouse with its budding tumor. “What about cancer drugs?”

“What about ‘em?”

“If we could get our hands on enough chemotherapeutics like Paciltaxel or Doxtaxel, we could encapsulate the antibodies in the drugs. Since the antibodies attach to the Superman proteins in the Variants, it would deliver the drugs straight to the cells responsible for the Variant’s fast healing. You know how chemotherapeutics knock out rapidly dividing cells naturally, right?”

“Of course,” Ellis said. “One of the side effects of chemotherapy is a weakened immune system.” His eyes seemed to widen with realization. “Hell, high-dose chemotherapy destroys bone marrow stem cells—hence bone marrow transplants.”

“Exactly. The Variant stem cells would gobble up the drugs attached via the protein-antibody linkage and die.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Ellis said, “You’re a fucking genius, Kate.”

She smiled at that, but not because she needed the confidence booster. If her idea worked, they’d be able to deliver the weapon much faster than she’d hoped.

“Let’s start isolating the lymphocytes in these mice. We can fuse the white blood cells with a cancer cell line,” Kate said. “Once we do that, we can use the hybrid cell line to start producing antibodies to help deliver the chemotherapeutics.”

“Wait,” Ellis said, holding up a glove. “We’re going to need a huge amount of these drugs. Who’s going to get them? And from where?”

The smile on Kate’s face vanished. She had gotten so far ahead of herself that she had neglected the simple question of logistics.

When the answer came to her, she closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. The only way to collect enough drugs to build a weapon would be salvage missions—but Beckham and his team would be the obvious choice for the job. Her plan would send them and thousands of other soldiers into harm’s way again.

Beckham heard Kate come in around two in the morning. Apollo let out a growl as she quietly opened the door.

“You okay?” Beckham asked groggily.

She didn’t say a word as she stripped off her shirt and changed out of her pants into a pair of shorts. Beckham felt his loins tingle as blood pumped through his veins. His sex drive had been almost nonexistent over the past few days, his mind elsewhere, but seeing Kate’s curves in the shadows ignited his passion. She slipped into bed next to him.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Fine. Everything is just fine,” he said with confidence. Without thinking, he planted his lips on hers and rolled her onto her back with just enough force that she squeaked in surprise.

“You read my fucking mind,” Kate said. She sat up, pulled off her sports bra, and started working on his t-shirt. Beckham felt the stitches on his shoulder tighten as she finally yanked his shirt over his head. But he didn’t care; a few moments of pain were worth the pleasure both of them so badly needed. He gently pushed her back onto the bed and spread her legs with his. Leaning in, he kissed his way down her neck, over her breasts, and down to her stomach.

“I want you,” Kate said. She added with a growl, “Now.”

Beckham grabbed her shorts and yanked them off. She pulled his own boxers down around his butt and he squirmed out of them. He had to sit up to finally pull them off. When they were free of his feet, he threw them onto the floor and climbed over Kate, using his fists to prop his body up. She ran her fingernails down his back.

A low whine came from the floor, where Beckham’s shorts had fallen on Apollo. The dog shook them off and wagged his tail.

Kate and Beckham both laughed, and he pushed himself off the bed and led Apollo to the door. He opened it a crack to let the dog out and pointed at the hallway.

“Sit,” was all he said before closing the door.

Beckham turned and saw the moonlight streaming through the shades, bathing Kate’s naked body in its glow. He froze, studying every inch of her skin. Every memory and worry that haunted him vanished. Her beauty awakened something inside of him that he had never felt before in his life. It wasn’t just her physical perfection, either—it was her relentless drive, her courage, and her brilliance in the face of the apocalypse. He promised himself he would do anything to ensure they could have a life together. He would fight the Variants with his bare hands if he had to, just to keep her safe.

Kate and Beckham had made love until they were spent, twice last night and once again this morning. She lay in his arms after the last time, feeling blissfully exhausted. She felt something else too—something a lot like love.

The emotion was tinged with guilt because she was alive to enjoy it while so many others had died. Her brother, Javier. Her mentor, Michael. She still didn’t know the fate of her parents, but she had to assume they too had perished. Any happiness seemed wrong in the light of so much death.

After Kate had dressed, she brewed coffee in the tiny machine next to the sink. She poured two cups and took a seat on the bed to wait for Beckham to finish his sit-ups. The man was disciplined and relentless.

“Almost done,” Beckham said. He grunted, his abs clenching, and Kate could see every muscle in his back. His torso was sculpted with a lean layer of muscle.

Apollo rested at his feet, clearly waiting anxiously for a walk. He glanced up every few seconds.

When Beckham finished his workout, he wiped his forehead with a towel and then threw it over his shoulder. He pushed himself to his feet and sat next to Kate on the bed.

“Here,” Kate said.

“Thanks,” Beckham said, taking the cup of coffee from her.

Kate sipped the steaming liquid in silence, enjoying the minute of solitude with Beckham before they started another day. Birds chirped from the branches of a tree just outside the window. It felt oddly normal, like any given morning from before the outbreak.

“Never thought I would enjoy a mug of joe so much,” Beckham said. He patted Apollo on his head and then walked to the window. Using two fingers, he parted the shades and looked outside.

“Going to be nice out. Don’t see a single cloud in the sky.”

“Too bad I won’t see any of it,” Kate said. “I’ll be in the lab.”

Beckham closed the shades. “I bet it’s getting claustrophobic in there.”

“I’m used to it.” Kate finished the rest of her coffee. She was still working up the guts to tell him how she felt, but the L-word seemed to be caught in her throat. She wanted so badly to tell him while they still had the chance. She had just gathered up the courage to say it when a knock rattled the door.

“Kate, it’s Ellis. You in there?”

Beckham walked to the door and opened it. Ellis blushed when he saw the shirtless soldier and spoke over Beckham’s shoulder.

“Kate, Colonel Wood is en route. He wants a status update in two hours,” Ellis said.

“Great,” Kate huffed. “I’ll meet you in the lab in a few minutes.”

Beckham closed the door and threw on his shirt. “I have a briefing. I should get going too.”

Kate hesitated, her lips hovering a fraction of an inch from his. She didn’t care that Beckham’s breath smelled like coffee and that he badly needed a shower. She closed the distance between them, pressing her body against his.

“Reed,” she whispered. “I… I wanted to tell you—”

He grabbed her waist and lifted her into the air, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his torso. They kissed again, deeper and more urgent.

Reluctantly, she wriggled out of his arms and pulled her shirt back down. They didn’t have time for round four, as much as she wanted it.

“You let me know if Colonel Wood gives you any problems, Kate. Or his men,” Beckham said. “Okay?”

His strength made her want him even worse. She nodded, kissed him quickly one last time, and then hurried off to the lab.

Four weeks. That’s how long Riley had been in a wheelchair. Looking out over the beach, Riley wished more than anything that he could get up and run. He desperately missed the ten milers with the rest of Team Ghost in the heat of the summer. He could almost feel the sweat dripping down his body, saturating his clothes. He had almost always been on point back then, setting the pace for the other men grunting behind him as they struggled with their rucksacks.

Now he was stuck on the sidelines, unable to help with even the clean-up duty the morning after the massacre on the beach. He glanced over at what was left of his team. Beckham stood with his arms crossed, Apollo sitting at his feet. Horn and Chow rested their backs against the Humvee they’d used to get to the beach. Fitz was there, too, taking in the destruction he’d help inflict the night before. Meg sat in the open doorway of the truck, staring out over the blood-stained sand in disbelief. She’d asked Riley if she could come, but now he wasn’t so sure she was glad to be here.

It seemed almost surreal, even to Riley. He still hadn’t fully grasped the idea that the world had ended, even though he had accepted the fact his family was dead.

The cough of a diesel engine broke out as a Medical Corps soldier fired up a bulldozer and began clearing the Variant bodies from the beach. A crew of Wood’s men scoured the beach in CBR suits, picking up chunks of gore and putting them into trash bags. A second crew worked on securing a new fence. From the look of things, they had been at it all morning.

“Your girls doing okay, Big Horn?” Riley asked.

Horn took a drag on a cigarette and flicked the ash. “Yeah, man. They’re actually doing pretty good, considering. Glad there are other kids here. I’m hoping they can help Bo.”

“Bo?” Riley asked.

Horn crushed the spent smoke under his boot and said, “Kid we rescued from Niantic last night. Sounds like they’ve been through hell, but so have Tasha and Jenny. Helps kids deal when they have someone they can relate to.”

Riley nodded like he understood, when in reality he had no fucking idea what it would be like for a kid growing up in this world. Frankly, he was having a hard time keeping it together himself, and he was trained for this shit.

“Those Wood’s men?” Horn asked.

“Yeah,” Chow said. “Saw them take off for the beach first thing this morning. Must be hot as fuck working in those CBR suits.”

“They’re good at their jobs,” Beckham said. “I’ll give ‘em that. Looks like they’re going to have that fence back up by sundown.”

Fitz shook his head. Beckham the unwavering optimist—it’s what made him the best leader Riley had ever served under. Earning praise from Beckham had always motivated Riley to push himself to his limits. Now he felt worse than worthless. He couldn’t do anything to help his brothers. Part of him wished they would just cut his legs off and give him blades like Fitz.

Riley flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Meg looking down at him, using his shoulder to balance herself. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail that whipped in the wind. The bruises on her face were starting to fade, and he could see her freckles now.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” she said.

“You must be a mind reader.”

“Nah, you just look like you’re warming the bench at a football game.”

Riley let out a sad laugh. “Yeah that about describes it.”

“How long till you’re out of the chair?”

“Dr. Hill said six to eight weeks, but with the compound fractures I’m looking at up to a year of rehab after the casts come off,” Riley said, glancing down. “Doc said I might not ever run again.” The words slipped out before Riley could stop them. He hadn’t wanted the other operators to know for fear they would see him as a burden.

“We all know that isn’t true,” Chow said. “You’re too stubborn.”

“Clearly that idiot doesn’t know who he’s talking to,” Horn laughed.

“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll be outrunning all of us again in no time,” Beckham added.

Riley fought to hold back tears of relief. The support of his brothers meant everything to him, and he cursed himself for doubting their loyalty.

“What about you?” Riley said, examining Meg’s bandages.

“Just depends on how fast I heal. Dr. Hill told me that it varies.” She pulled her hand off his shoulder and used it to shield her eyes from the sun as the mechanical chatter of a chopper cut over the cough of the bulldozer on the beach.

Riley turned to watch a long black Chinook approach. Two Blackhawks trailed the beast. They were still a half-mile out, but Riley could see the troop holds were packed with soldiers.

“Here comes the cavalry,” Beckham said. There was a dark edge to his voice. Riley understood what it meant. Beckham didn’t trust Wood, and that meant Riley didn’t trust him either. Maybe there was something he could do to help Team Ghost after all. If Wood and his men were a threat, Riley was going to find out. He massaged the handle of his Beretta M9 as the choppers descended over the island.