Nicholas Smith - Extinction Age

“Put us down in between that Humvee and the semi,” he said over the comm.

The clatter from the final pre-combat gear and weapons checks echoed through the troop hold. Beckham slammed a magazine into his M4 and then performed the most important final preparation by patting the pocket containing the picture of his mom.

“Hope she’s watching over us,” Horn said as he joined Beckham at the open door. “Hope she’s watching over my girls at Plum Island, too.”

“She is, Big Horn,” Beckham said. He watched the concrete rise toward them as the pilots descended over the road. The landing skids connected with a crunch a moment later, and Beckham shouted, “Go, go, go!”

Boots pounded the pavement as Beckham took point and raced toward a green fence. Through the chain links, he could see a massive tunnel cut into the hills. When he reached the gate, Echo 2 pulled overhead and vanished over the wooded bluff above the entrance.

Beckham turned to check on Valentine and his men at the other portal. The sergeant had already breeched the gate, and his team was running through.

The decision to split up wasn’t an easy one for Beckham. A major problem with Operation Extinction was intel, or lack thereof. That, and the fact the medical infrastructure had been all but destroyed during the firebombing of the cities during the initial outbreak. It was yet another reason he was questioning the mission. Coming to Raven Rock seemed more like a rescue op for any surviving political dignitaries or military brass. Beckham was all about saving more souls, but he hated feeling like cannon fodder. If that turned out to be the case, he’d have something to say to Wood—if he made it back at all.

“Looks secure,” Lombardi said. “No sign of forced entry.”

Chow pulled a string of bloody goo hanging between links and held it up under the sun. “No sign, huh?” he said with a raised brow. “Looks like someone or something opted for an alternative route.” He wiped the blood on his flak jacket and pointed at the barbwire lining the top of the fence. Several pieces had been torn away and hung loosely over the side. Dried blood stained the metal.

Beckham banished any remaining hope for a simple mission.

“Let’s go,” he said, motioning toward the gate. Lombardi pulled a bolt cutter from his rucksack and snapped through the locks.

“What about a vehicle?” Horn asked.

“Don’t want to tell anyone we’re coming,” Beckham said. “We proceed on foot until we clear the facility. Horn, you’re on point. The rest of you fall into line and keep combat intervals. If we find Variants, remember your field of fire. Nobody pull any cowboy shit.”

He flashed a hand signal, and Chow pulled the gate back. Horn burst through with his M249 leveled at the lip of the tunnel. As they ran, Beckham mentally identified the escape routes he’d noted earlier on the map.

Ahead, Horn melted into the shadows. Beckham followed close behind, checking the walls, ceiling, and ground for any sign of struggle. He’d half expected to discover a battlefield inside with empty bullet casings and corpses. Besides a few streaks of blood, there wasn’t anything but concrete and rock.

Horn stopped a hundred feet from a gate blocking their entrance into the inner roadways. Weak rays of sunlight leaking into the tunnel confirmed what Beckham already knew: the gate leading inside the mountain was already open.

“Radio discipline from here on out,” Beckham whispered. He pointed to his eyes, then to Horn, and then to the open gate.

Horn acknowledged with a nod, shouldered his M249, and marched ahead, heel to toe, just like old times. And, just like old times, Beckham followed him into the darkness.

“You can’t, Kate,” Ellis was saying. “You’re too important.”

Kate held a syringe of Kryptonite under a bank of lights in the small lab room. She steadied her breathing as she stared at her new weapon. There was no sense of awe that she created something so powerful. In fact, she could hardly concentrate on her new creation at all.

She was focused on the fact her period was a week late.

Kate wanted to tell Ellis, but she couldn’t. Not yet—not until she knew for sure. At first she hadn’t given it much thought, attributing her irregular cycle to the stress. But the more she thought about injecting herself with the Kryptonite, the more she wondered if it was the right move. If she was pregnant, it might cause serious complications.

After several moments of silence, she lowered the syringe and faced Ellis. He was running a hand through his slicked back hair.

“Beckham is out there with the other soldiers, collecting chemotherapeutics that we hope will end this nightmare. We need to ensure it doesn’t have any major side effects on the surviving population,” Kate said.

Ellis held out his hand and let out an exasperated sigh. “Let me, then. You have Beckham, and Horn’s girls have really taken a liking to you. I don’t have anyone. If something goes wrong—”

“Don’t say that,” Kate said. “You have me.”

He twisted his lips to the side and used two fingers to gesture for the syringe. “I’m still a better option. Besides, if we’re correct, nothing’s going to happen. Right?”

Kate nodded without hesitation. She was confident the drugs would have minimal side effects on humans, but they still had to be sure before they deployed it on a massive level.

“Let me help at least,” Kate said. She sat Ellis down in a chair and grabbed his left arm to search for a suitable vein in the crook of his elbow.

Ellis closed his eyes and said, “Make it fast.”

“What kind of doctor hates needles?”

“I don’t mind ‘em as long as they aren’t going inside of me .”

Without warning, Kate inserted the tip of the needle into a plump vein and pushed in the cocktail. She quickly pulled it out again and put a cotton swab over the pinprick of blood forming on the surface of his skin.

“All done,” she said with a warm smile.

Ellis placed a finger over the swab. “Thanks. What’s next on the agenda?”

“I’d like to see how Patients 1 and 2 are doing.”

“But we just injected them a few hours ago.”

Kate disposed of the needle and washed her hands. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and said, “I need something to keep my mind off Operation Extinction.”

“Fine,” Ellis said. He opened the door to the lab and walked into the hallway where Cooper and Berg were waiting.

“We’re heading to Building 4,” Kate said.

“Follow us, Doctor.”

Kate spoke to Ellis openly as she walked. Her fear of Wood’s men was still there, but she figured the best course of action was to continue acting as if nothing was wrong.

“I want to make sure we have the bioreactors online and ready to go as soon as possible,” Kate said. “We can’t speed up cell growth once we start the batches, but we can ensure we’re producing as many as possible by coordinating multiple batches. Colonel Wood has already lined up three other locations.”

“That’s a good start,” Ellis said. “But we’re going to need more than four. What about other countries?”

“Wood said to leave that up to his science division,” Kate said. She recalled the conference call from the night before. The colonel had answered Kennor a little too quickly and smoothly about coordinating the production of Kryptonite. She had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn’t thought twice about it.

Until now.

The mid-morning sun beat down on them when they got outside. Kate felt a trickle of sweat forming on her forehead. She dragged a sleeve across her brow and tried to think. If the first stage of Operation Extinction was successful, they could start the bioreactors immediately. They needed two weeks to expand the cell line and produce enough for deployment. But in two weeks, the human population would have dwindled dramatically worldwide. The thought made Kate stop in her tracks.