Bigfoot War 3: Food Chain (10 page)

“It’s nowhere near enough,” Wally finished for him.

“The complex is safe,” Dr. Morrison told them. “They’ll never find a way inside these walls.”

“Uh . . .” Brad rubbed at his beard. “Under normal circumstances, you would likely be right, Doc, but . . .”

“But what?”
Bree
snapped, instantly cursing herself for letting the pressure of the situation get to her.

“The garage bay is still open,” Brad confessed. “There’s a malfunction with the servos that control it. It hadn’t been used in so long opening the doors caused them to burn out. We’re working on fixing it, but it won’t be nearly in time to have it shut before those things out there arrive.”

“Of all the—”
Bree
spat, slamming a fist into the top of the table.

“I don’t understand, Major,” Dr. Morrison said. “How could this happen?”

“Those doors haven’t been fully opened since The Bunker was sealed. They are not exactly high on the priority list when it comes to maintenance.”

“You’re telling me we’re all about to die because of simple neglect?” The doctor looked to be on the verge of leaving his seat and pummeling the major into a bleeding pulp.

“Calm down,”
Bree
told the doctor. “We need to be focusing on the danger at hand not laying blame.”

Wally spoke up. “This is a fight we can’t win,
Bree
. It’s time to go.”

“Go to where? There’s nowhere left up there to run to, Wally. You should know that better than anyone. The Bunker is the best hope the human race has left. It’s likely the only chance we have of not only recovering all we’ve lost to the beasts and the dead, but holding onto our knowledge for future generations.”

“She’s right,” Dr. Morrison said. “Even if we took all the data we could with us, I highly doubt mankind would ever be able to use it. Here we have a working fusion reactor, the first ever created, and the tools with which to jumpstart civilization back to what it was in the days before the beasts came out of the woods looking for blood.”

Wally looked to Brad for support. Brad shook his head.

“If we could somehow beat them here, this whole region would be ours again. Even if we just hold them back and drive them away for now, the losses they’ve suffered and our tech gives us a huge long-term edge.”

Wally looked utterly defeated. “Small arms aren’t going to cut it,” he said at last. “If we’re going to make this stand with your precious Wolves already lost, we’re going to need some real ordnance to throw at the monsters. Our only hope is to stop them before they get inside The Bunker through the open bay. If they manage that, it’s close quarters and the battle is already theirs.”

* * *

Wally and Brad took charge of The Bunker’s defense while
Bree
and Dr. Morrison organized the civilian populace that were either unable or unwilling to fight. They would retreat deep into The Bunker’s lowest levels to wait for whatever would come.

Two rail guns built to be mounted on the Mark II Wolves were quickly fastened with makeshift tripods and positioned in the middle of a line of five .50 calibers set up along The Bunker bay’s open entrance way. Wally carried a M4 with each of its eight firing chambers loaded with not grenades, but near hand-sized, armor-piercing rounds. All of The Bunker’s defenders were armed with the heaviest weapons that could be found. One soldier wore matching .44 Magnums in holsters on his belt. Another clutched a real Elephant gun, though where he got it, Brad and Wally had no idea.

Hades
, Wally thought. Unless the man was amazingly lucky, he’d never get it reloaded after its two barrels were emptied.

Wally spotted Brad overseeing the setup of the sixth and final .50 caliber on the line. Brad wore a flamethrower pack strapped to his shoulders.

“You’ve got to be kidding?” Wally said as he walked over to where Brad stood.

Brad met him with a devilish grin. “The beasts go up pretty easy and this baby has one heck of a wide stream. Besides, look around you. The Bunker’s all metal. It’s not like we have to worry about much secondary damage from the fires.”

“At least not until they get a hold of you and you explode,” Wally said in a very professional and serious tone.

Brad just laughed. “If it gets bad enough for them to get their bloody hands on me, who says that isn’t part of the plan? This from a man who has fought them with just a sword? Really?” He slapped Wally’s shoulder. “It’s all-or-nothing time here, bro. If this is my time to buy it, I might as well do it in style.”

“Sir!” one of the soldiers on watch outside of The Bunker beyond the defensive line called down to Brad. “We have got movement in the trees!”

Wally and Brad’s eyes met for a fraction of a second before Brad turned away and whooped, “It’s show time, people! The crap’s about to hit the fan!”

Wally watched him jog away to assume command of the left side of the line. The men under Wally’s command on the right side were already as prepared as they could ever be. That was a good thing as he had no words of encouragement to give them.

Like stampeding cattle, the beasts tore through the trees and came into view. Several men along the line on both sides of it were already taking wild, panicked shots at them, but Wally waited for them to draw in a bit closer before he gave the official order.

“Fire!” he shouted.

The Bunker’s bay echoed with the roar of rail guns and .50 calibers springing into action.

The initial wave of beasts stumbled, many of the monsters being cut apart into nothing more than ragged chunks of flying meat and spraying blood. The beasts were so fast and numerous that for each that fell, two more advanced, stepping over the remains of their brethren. Wally joined the fight as the first of them reached the line. He leaped forward, leveling the barrel of his M4 at the chest of one of the things that was in the process of crushing a .50 caliber with its bare hands. His shot blew a hole the size of basketball through its ribcage. It staggered back several steps and collapsed, its eyes rolling up to show only a sickly yellow. With the .50 caliber gone, the men around him broke into an open retreat. Wally stood his ground, pumping off four more rounds. One splattered the head of a beast into a reddish pulp. Another deprived a beast of its right arm, leaving it reeling sideways, clutching at the wound with its remaining hand. His third shot gutted a beast as it stepped directly in front of him, filling the air with pieces of intestines and fecal matter. His fourth and final shot went wide of its intended target as he slipped on the sheen of blood already covering most of the bay’s floor. The beast he’d been aiming at turned from the soldier it had just folded up like a pretzel and rushed at him. Wally dropped his M4 in favor of his sword. In one smooth motion, he yanked it free from the scabbard on his back and slashed open the monster’s throat. A sickening, gargling noise erupted from the creature as it staggered and fell to its knees. It grabbed for him, but Wally backpedaled and slashed at it again, this time taking three of its fingers for his effort. The beast was dying anyway and Wally didn’t stick around to watch it expire.

He ran towards the inner door leading into The Bunker itself where the surviving defenders were backed up, fighting for their lives against the seemingly endless tide of beasts. The bay stank of smoke, blood and burning hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brad across the bay. Brad was hosing a pack of the monsters with his flamethrower, but with the main line now broken, there was nothing to keep them from reaching him. One creature with most of its hair and the flesh of its upper body burnt away, with flames still dancing over its skin, scooped Brad up into a bear hug. The light of the explosion left Wally momentarily blind as its shockwave lifted him from his feet and tossed him like a rag doll into The Bunker’s wall. He thudded against it, bruising the entire right side of his body, and tumbled to the floor. Blinking his vision back into focus, he could see over half of the bay was now a sea of fire and burning beasts. The stink was so bad he gagged and tried not to vomit. Smoke filled his lungs. In the mostly-enclosed bay, the smoke was soon going to be just as lethal as the beasts themselves. Coughing, Wally hauled himself to his feet. His path towards the inner door was blocked by flames. Taking the only option available to him, he bolted for the open bay door and sunlight beyond it. His eyes burned and tears flowed freely. Whether it was the grace of God or merely the cover from the smoke, he didn’t know how but made it out without having to engage a single beast.

There were still hundreds of the Bigfoot outside trying to press forward into the flames and chaos of the bay, but they didn’t seem to notice him as he emerged. He flattened himself against the outside of the massive bay door and crept around behind them before making a run for the cover of the trees. Two of the monsters spotted him and gave chase. Wally’s legs pumped beneath him as he sprinted into the woods. Knowing they would overtake him, he flung himself into the air as they closed in, grabbed a tree limb, and spun in the air above them to land behind them. Wally drew his sword once more and delivered a vicious swipe to the backside of the closest beast’s legs. It fell as metal parted muscle and flesh. Wally had no time to move in and finish the monster. The other whirled on him. Wally swung at it and the beast caught his sword in the thick of its palm. Blood poured from its hand, and with a deep snarl it held onto the blade and snapped it in two.

Wally moved with near superhuman speed that came from years of training and experience, jerking twin daggers from their sheathes on his boots as the beast loomed over him. He had no time to dodge it. Its hands closed on him as he felt two of his ribs give way to the pressure of the monster’s grip and it lifted him above its head. Wally plunged his daggers into its eyes and twisted them around, deeper into the sockets. The beast gave a pained, surprised howl and flung him aside. Wally struck the ground with such force he felt his left shoulder dislocate. The beast’s final act was to wrench the daggers from its eye sockets before it dropped to its knees and collapsed face first in the dirt. It still held the blades in its hands as it died.

Wally popped his shoulder back into place. The rush of pain that came with doing so caused the world to spin around him. His vision narrowed and went black as he lost consciousness.

He awoke with a start as heavy drops of rain splashed onto his cheeks. The clouds above let loose and a sudden downpour erupted over him. Wally ignored the pain coursing through him and rolled over onto his good side, forcing himself up. His first few steps were awkward and labored, but he managed to stay on his feet. It was dark and the woods were eerily silent.

“
Bree
!” he said. He had to find her.

Wally glanced over and noticed an APC parked near The Bunker’s open bay door. There was something oddly familiar about it.

“About time you woke up,” a voice above him said.

He looked up to see Thane crouched on a limb of the tree beside him. “Thane? How . . . what are you doing here?”

The man hopped to the ground in front of him. “What’s the matter, Wally? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” He laughed. “Could that be because you betrayed us? You walked away from all we had worked to build and then sold us out on top of that.”

Wally said nothing. Wincing at the pain of his wounds, he shifted into a defensive stance.

“Really? You’re in no shape to fight, especially not me.”

“What do you want, Thane?”

“I would think that’s pretty obvious. I came to kill you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Oh, I was just savoring this moment. I very much want to remember you like this, alone and broken.”

Thane’s taunts stung him and Wally finally lost it. He sprang at him, swinging at the man’s throat. Thane sidestepped the attack. Wally evaded his counter blow and thrust a palm at his face. Thane blocked his strike, catching his arm. Wally screamed as Thane snapped it backwards, breaking it. The white of bone poked through Wally’s flesh and the torn cloth of his sleeve.

Backpedaling, Wally tried to retreat for a moment to gather himself. Thane pressed his attack, moving in for the kill. Wally blocked a blow aimed for his stomach with his good arm, but Thane managed to pop him in the face—three times in rapid succession—tearing his lips against his own teeth. Wally spat blood, still staggering backwards. A kick to his chest sent new currents of pain through his already-hurt ribs. He fell onto his back. He managed not to blackout and stared up at Thane as his former comrade leaped onto him, his fist bashing Wally again and again in a flurry of blows.