Nicholas Smith - Extinction Horizon

Kate froze, scanning the room with what little light the open doorway provided. The hallway leading to the isolation chambers was lit only by a faint glow from an emergency light blinking at the far end.

Hesitating, Kate held the door open behind her, propping it open with her left foot. After a few seconds her leg began to shake from the weight.

“Hello?” Kate called out.

The only reply came in a loud bang that echoed down the corridor. Kate tried to place the noise but she was so terrified she could hardly think.

Slowly she took a step backward. Before she could escape her right foot slid across the wet floor. Crying out, she flailed for something to hold onto. Her hands came up empty and she crashed to the floor with a thud. Fuzzy snowflakes exploded before her vision.

Terrified, Kate flipped to her stomach and tried to push herself up. Her hands slid across the slippery floor and she fell forward, onto her chest.

The hair on her neck stood up when she heard the door close behind her, sealing with a metallic click. Another noise followed it. The sound was coming from the hallway. Another door had opened.

“Who’s there?” she cried out again.

The only reply was the sound of skittering feet.

Panicking, she swiveled her body in the direction of the corridor. She couldn’t see anything but the faint glow of the single emergency light.

Closing her eyes, she pushed herself to her knees and spun back to the entrance. With her hands in front of her she pawed the floor.

The sound of scurrying feet got louder. It was closer now, and it sounded like it was coming from above her, from the ceiling.

Frantic, Kate slid on the wet floor again. She collapsed onto something that took away her breath. She knew instantly it was a body.

Gasping, she could only think of infection. Without her space suit she suddenly felt naked. Kate held her breath and slipped into survival mode.

She scrambled across the tiles, searching the body for anything useful. A few feet away from the corpse her fingers found the cold metal of a gun.

The sound of nails dragging across a chalkboard grew louder. It was almost on top of her now.

This isn’t happening , she thought as she grabbed the rifle and pulled it to her chest. She had never fired a gun before. Didn’t even really know how. She quickly found the trigger with her right hand and then ran her other hand down the length of the gun. She remembered the flashlight attachment she’d seen on the weapons.

With a soft click, a beam shot out and illuminated the dark hallway. She angled the gun across the floor, moving from side to side. The light didn’t reveal any sign of life, only death.

The walls were covered in blood. The body of a guard lay sprawled out in the middle of the floor. A few feet to his right lay a technician, his legs bent in opposite directions.

A flash of movement pulled Kate away from the scene. She rapidly raised the weapon and scanned the ceiling, trying to follow the blur of skin. The stream of light caught the pale body of Patient 12 skittering across the ceiling panels.

Her blood froze when she saw the man clinging upside down with claw-shaped hands and feet. He stopped when the light hit him. He sniffed the air, tilted his head, and locked onto her.

Kate froze, petrified with fear.

The creature hung there, smacking its lips together, in and out. In the blink of an eye it released a croak and continued across the ceiling.

Kate instinctively squeezed the trigger. The gun clicked but did not fire. “Shit, shit, shit,” she cried, fumbling with the rifle.

The scratching and scraping of Patient 12’s nails sent another surge of fear through Kate. Her fingers crisscrossed the metallic surface of the gun in a desperate attempt to find the safety.

Think Kate, think . She’d seen guns before. The safety was usually on the side, just above the trigger. Her finger found the small lever and she slid it into position.

Falling to her back, she swung the muzzle of the gun toward the monster, following him as he crawled across the ceiling.

He was so fast.

And then he was sailing through the air, his hands extended in front of him. Screaming with a rage unlike anything she’d ever heard.

Closing her eyes, she pulled back on the trigger and drowned out the terrible noise with the crack of fully automatic gunfire.

The wind howled in the distance, bringing with it the sound of the creatures. Subhuman shrieks that made Beckham’s skin crawl. There were other noises too, the click-clack of joints popping and the scratching of claws as the creatures hunted.

Beckham peered over his shoulder but saw nothing beyond Riley and Horn’s CBRN suits.

Darkness had claimed New York City, spreading a carpet of black over them. With the grid down he was forced to use his NVGs.

His heart skipped a beat as he leapt across the narrow gap separating their building from the adjacent one. He landed with a thud but kept running, his boots pounding the pebbles on top of the roof.

He heard Riley and Horn land a few seconds later. They had narrowly escaped to the rooftop and they were on the run.

Beckham considered what had happened as he moved. From what he could see, he knew two things. One, the bioweapon Kate developed had killed the majority of the infected population. Two, the ones that had survived were different. They were smarter and more cunning. They didn’t run into incoming gunfire like their suicidal predecessors. Like Kate’s viral weapon, those who survived it were variants of the original infection.

Variants, he thought. That’s what he would call them.

Beckham never thought he would miss the days of chasing terrorists and engaging militants in firefights. At least those assholes didn’t try to eat him. And they couldn’t move like insects either. They usually kept both feet on the ground, much easier to shoot than these things that moved like spiders on PCP.

He skidded to a stop at the ledge of the rooftop and shouldered his rifle, trying the line to Plum Island again.

“Echo 1, this is Ghost, do you copy? Over.”

The response, to Beckham’s surprise was almost instantaneous. “Ghost. Echo 1. We are Oscar Mike. What is your AO? Over.”

Pausing, Beckham reached into his vest and withdrew a small handheld GPS. He read their coordinates and then looked over the edge.

“Roger. ETA of fifteen,” the pilot said. Then there was only static.

Beckham’s stomach churned when he saw the street below. Variants dashed across the tops of burned cars, jumping from vehicle to vehicle. He cursed under his breath. Fifteen minutes was a lifetime out here. They weren’t going to make it two minutes if those things found them.

One of the Variants stopped below. She crouched on the concrete and sniffed the air like a dog trying to pick up a scent. And she found it. Her eyes locked onto Beckham’s position. He took a step away from the roof, his heart racing, bracing himself for the inevitable scream.

Nothing came.

When he peeked over the edge she was gone. Darting away with the others.

Exhaling, he scanned the flat rooftop. A billboard rose off the north end, giving them some cover. The other three sides were all exposed, save for a few stone gargoyles protruding from the ledges. It wasn’t the best place to make a stand, but they’d run out of roof.

Riley and Horn were waiting for him at the center of the rooftop. “Horn, you guard the east. Riley, you got the south side. I’ll set the claymores on that billboard in case they come up that side. Then I’ve got the west perimeter.”

“Gotcha, Boss,” Riley said.

“On it,” Horn replied.

They fanned out across the gravel roof. Beckham ran to the base of the billboard, dropped his rucksack, and took out the mines. The billboard stood on a frame of steel that was bolted into the roof. Beckham positioned one mine to fire up the back of the billboard and the other to fire at its base in case any Variants came up the side and tried to crawl through the support structure. When he was done, he uncoiled enough cord to reach the southwest corner of the roof where he had placed the detonators. Then he returned to the west ledge and angled his rifle over the side, squinting.