Affliction Z (Book 3): Descended in Blood (14 page)

“Holy shit,” the guy said. “Never thought I’d see you again, man. What was it? Turtle? Tortoise? Tiberius?”

“I hope you’re just fucking with me, Newkirk.”

“Course I am, Turk.” Newkirk extended his hand, and Turk welcomed the gesture.

He felt relieved to see someone he knew. A potential teammate who had similar training if he could persuade the man to leave with him.

“Take it you two know each other?” Rose said.

Newkirk nodded. “Was attached to this crazy son of a bitch’s squad on more than one occasion. ‘I’m just a combat weatherman’ wasn’t a valid excuse with him. He expected me to do everything his guys did.”

“You wanna call yourself Spec Ops, you better be willing to get dirty, my friend.”

“My days of getting dirty are done,” Newkirk said, his smile fading. He walked toward the window with a limp. There was a gait to his stance. Both legs bowed at the knees.

“What happened?” Turk asked.

Newkirk looked back. His eyes glossed over and his lips pressed thin and tight.

Rob said, “He stepped on a mine. Lost both legs above the knee.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Turk said. Newkirk wasn’t the first man Turk had known to suffer such a fate. He absorbed their pain and felt it at that moment.

“You had nothing to do with it,” Newkirk said through clenched teeth.

“How do you know each other?” Turk asked.

“We’re cousins,” Rob said. “He came to live with me after his wife abandoned him. And fortunately he came along on this vacation. Took some prodding. He usually don’t want to leave the house.”

“Understandable.” Turk looked past Newkirk and spotted a pack of afflicted staggering past the house. They moved without purpose, their gazes fixed upward. What drove them forward? Was it a mindless action? Were they in search of prey? Or hoped to happen upon it? Hell, did they even have hope anymore?

"Enough of that depressing shit," Rose said. "We need to talk about Rhea."

"Who's Rhea?" Turk asked.

"Our sister," Rose said. "She was taken at gunpoint from the beach. I saw it from the window, but couldn't get to her fast enough. They had a boat maybe twenty feet off the beach. It looks like something I'd seen in a movie once. Black, made of hard rubber or something like that. Two men dragged her through the surf while the third aimed a rifle at her head."

Turk recalled the boats he'd seen at the fort. None matched Rhea’s description. But he knew she was talking about a four- or five-man version of the rigid boats he'd used as a SEAL. It made sense that the fort’s inhabitants would keep the vessel hidden if it belonged to them.

"What was she doing out there?" Turk asked.

Rob said, "Fishing and scavenging."

"Why was she out there alone?"

"She went out early," Rose said. "Didn’t tell anyone. I happened to wake up and see her bed empty."

“Was that usual behavior for her?” Turk asked.

Rob and Rose shared a glance. After a couple moments they shook their heads.

"And the men that took her?" Turk said.

Rose walked to the south end of the room and stood in front of the open blinds. Her shadow extended past Turk’s feet. After several seconds staring out the window, Rose turned around.

"I chased as far as I could down the shore," she said. "But by the time I reached the end of the island they were already rounding the tip of the fort."

"And you're sure that's where they went? That was their final destination?" Turk said.

Rob stepped forward, extending his clenched right hand. "We weren't at first. The little boat could've gone anywhere. But I went out there, and I saw them."

"You? Swimming in the harbor?"

Rob shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. His gaze shifted to his sister.

"Don't," she said.

Turk glanced from Rose to Rob to Newkirk. Only Rose looked at him. The two men stared at the floor. The feeling in the room changed from despair over concern of their sister's predicament to distrust of the new guy.

"Look," Turk said. "Y'all brought me here. Now if you got something to say that can help the situation, I think it's best to spit it out instead of avoiding it."

"A boat," Rose whispered.

"What?" Turk said.

Rose cleared her throat as she shut the blinds. The room darkened and their shadows faded. "Rob was in a boat. He wasn't swimming in the harbor."

"Where is it now?"

Rose and Rob exchanged a look.

Turk said, "I see what's going on here. Rob finds out I'm a SEAL. He tells you, and together you guys decide I can help you with your sister. On top of that you got Newkirk here, and you know he's got a background in the community. He can feel me out. Ask me questions. Determine if I'm bullshitting. Stroke of luck for you guys, he knows me. Knows my history. That’s not enough, though. Is it? Let me make this clear. If you want my help, and you got a boat, then I think you better tell me where it's located."

"We can't," Rose said. "I mean, not yet. If I tell you then what's to stop you from just leaving? We won't have our sister and will be out a boat."

Turk approach the woman, stopped, and studied her. The anguish on her face appeared genuine. Real tears glided down her cheeks. She feared loss. True loss of a loved one. Turk had felt that only a few days before when he saw his wife and daughter at the end of the tunnel in a space he knew fire had sucked the oxygen out of. Those twenty seconds lasted a lifetime for him. The image alone speared his gut with a hollow arrow.

"She look like you?" Turk asked Rose.

"Yeah. Only shorter hair and about five years younger."

"I'll leave around midnight."

Newkirk said, “Might be too late.”

“Why’s that?

“Storm coming. Obviously you saw the clouds. The formation of it, the way it’s spinning, well, it’s tropical.”

“Hurricane.”

Newkirk shrugged. “Without radar it’s impossible for me to tell until it hits us. But what I can tell you is landfall is coming soon.”

“There’s GPS connected to weather satellites,” Turk said. “You could tell with that, right?”

“Yeah, you got one?” Newkirk said.

“Or a way to power it up?” Rob added.

Turk shook his head. Glances shifted around the room as each person looked to the next for an answer. The others stopped on Turk.

“All right. So, what then? Wait?” Turk crossed his arms. “Not an option.”

They looked at him expectedly, as though he had to explain the reason he couldn’t spend any more time than necessary there. Turk had no intentions of mentioning he had a family waiting for him.

“Then you need to leave soon,” Newkirk said. “I figure we got five hours before the shit hits.”

“An hour,” Turk said. “I need some food and water first. I’m gonna need a knife and pistol. A rifle if you have one to spare. And a bag.”

“Done.” Rob turned to leave the room.

“Any chance you got a wet suit?”

Rob shook his head. “No, but we found a surfboard.”

“Rob,” Rose said.

“What?” he said. “What’s he gonna do? Paddle to the Bahamas?”

“Don’t worry,” Turk said. “I can use it. It’ll be safer than walking on the road or the beach. Now let me be for a half hour.”

The three left Turk in the room alone. He fell back on the bed and closed his eyes, mentally going through the motions of the mission until he succumbed to sleep.

Chapter 15

Twenty feet separated Sean from the dark outline and glowing eyes of an afflicted. He adjusted the rifle and aimed the flashlight’s beam at the horrid being. The afflicted slammed the door into the wall and lunged forward.

Sean opened fire on the afflicted. Four single shots tore down the hallway. The echoes persisted even after the afflicted collapsed to the floor.

He took a moment to collect himself, then reset the flashlight on top of the M4.

Need to find a headlamp. Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

He approached the crumpled body of the afflicted, not keen on the idea of having to step over it. He’d fired without taking aim and had no idea where the shots had landed or even how many had struck the body. The afflicted could be lying in wait. It could be injured, but not dead.

“Fuck it.” He took aim at the top of the afflicted’s head and fired two more rounds. “You’re dead now.”

The door hung open on the afflicted’s foot. Sean approached from the right and angled his M4 and the light through the opening. The beam glinted off the floor and cabinets.

Sean turned his attention back to the body on the floor. It lay motionless. He kicked the afflicted with his prosthetic leg. Logic told him the being was dead, but the voice of reason inside his head had little input lately. He stepped over the body and then shoved the door open.

He crossed the threshold and started toward the rear door. Something banged against the metal, then the door whipped open. The dark room burst into light, leaving him blinded.

Sean heard a moan to his right, deep and guttural. He spun toward the sound and made out a dark shape. It advanced toward him. Sean’s right foot caught on the leg of the corpse. He stumbled backward, slamming his right shoulder blade on the edge of the doorframe. Pain radiated through his back and arm.

With his sight adjusted, Sean saw another being standing outside. Were there more out there? No telling, and not worth worrying about if he didn’t survive the current attack.

The afflicted lunged forward, arms wide, mouth open, strands of saliva hanging between its teeth.

Sean fell back and landed hard on his left elbow. He lost feeling in his hand and dropped the M4 upon impact with the floor. With little time to retrieve the weapon, he stuck his right foot up in the air and intercepted the oncoming afflicted.

The crazed being wrapped its arms around Sean’s prosthetic leg and tried to sink its teeth into metal flesh. They hammered against the titanium bone. The afflicted didn’t notice. It kept biting and clenching. Its shit-stained teeth cracked and split and pieces skated across the floor.

Sean drew his leg back, then drove it forward into the afflicted’s neck. The being let out a hollow gasp, but held steady. Sean delivered another blow, forcing the afflicted to let go of Sean’s leg. It fell backward, freeing Sean.

He rolled to his right and located his M4. But before he could secure it, the afflicted was on top of him again. It must’ve learned its lesson about the titanium leg, because the being now pinned him down by planting its forearm across Sean’s chest with remarkable force. Sean was unable to free himself. The afflicted placed its free hand on Sean’s face. Its fingers clamped down under Sean’s cheekbones and into his eye sockets. The pressure increased to the point he thought his head was going to be crushed.

Pain flooded his left arm. His fingers tingled, but he could tell they were wrapped around the barrel of his rifle.

The afflicted did not let up its grasp. It felt as though his molars were going to snap inward. He saw starbursts in the darkness. The intense pressure surrounding his eyes indicated that the afflicted was close to penetrating his eye sockets and sinking its crusted fingers into Sean’s brain.

Sean tightened his grip on the rifle, unsure which direction it faced. There wasn’t time to find the trigger and reposition for a shot anyway.

He inched his arm away from his body and off the ground, then swung the weapon toward the afflicted. Metal connected with skin and bone with a thud. The being grunted. Saliva sprayed across Sean’s face. He swung the rifle repeatedly, each time slamming it into the afflicted.

The being’s hold slipped. Sean freed his right arm and wrapped his hand around the afflicted’s neck. It retaliated with wild punches, hitting Sean in the arm, neck and face.

Sean continued countering the blows with the heavy M4.

The rifle won out.

The afflicted slumped backward.

Sean brought his leg up and kicked its chest until it fell to the side. Ragged breaths came out in gargles. Dark fluid spilled from gashes on its head and neck.

Can you beat one of these to death?

Sean scooted away from the afflicted. After using the counter to pull himself up, he took a step forward and nearly stumbled. His leg had nearly been wrenched free during the altercation. As he reached down and disconnected his leg, the afflicted rolled over and drew up to its hands and knees.

Sean dropped his prosthetic and secured the M4 with both hands.

The afflicted propelled forward, hurling itself through the air.

Sean pulled the trigger three times. One bullet missed and slammed into the drywall on the other end of the room. The other two hit.

The afflicted collapsed onto its side and shrieked. It sounded similar to the noise that had erupted in the woods. Same as what he had heard years ago in Nigeria. The shrill sound deafened him in the enclosed room.

He steadied himself and fired one more shot, this time to the head of the afflicted. Like the previous encounter, the shot ended the being’s damned existence.