Bigfoot War 3: Food Chain (7 page)

“Just who in the bloody Hades are you, bro?”

Wally suddenly knew he was in the right place. “Take me to her,” he said.

The man nodded as the metal giants slipped away from sight into the trees. There was nothing quiet or stealth-like about their movements. They must have been powered down and hidden when he first arrived or they would never have surprised him.

The ground split open several feet from where Wally stood, opening to reveal a ladder leading into an underground complex.

“After you, sir,” the man said as he collected Wally’s weapons.

Wally climbed down into a corridor with metal walls and old world lighting as bright as the midday sun. The man followed him and the entrance slid closed behind them.

“I’m Brad, in case you were wondering,” the man in the gray uniform said. “I didn’t exactly catch your name, either.”

“Wally. It’s Wally Morgan.”

“Well, Mr. Morgan,” Brad said, scurrying passed him to place a palm on a small screen that was part of the wall up ahead. As he did so, the inner door at the end of the corridor dilated open in response. “Welcome to the last real holdout of human civilization. We call this place The Bunker.”

Wally followed him deeper into the complex. The two of them passed other folks in the halls as they went. Wally noticed everyone wore clothes as new and untarnished as Brad’s. Some appeared busy, as if they were on some kind of errand; others merely strolled along, unfazed by the wonders of technology around them.

Brad stopped in front of a doorway. “This is where you’ll be staying for the time being.”

Wally glared at him. “I told you to take me to
Bree
.”

Brad raised his hands, palms showing, in a gesture of peace. “And I will, bro, but you seriously need a shower first. No offense, but you smell like a Sasquatch. Trust me, it’ll be better for everyone this way.”

He wanted to grab Brad and tear out his throat for suggesting he wait any longer to see
Bree
, but he held himself in check. Wally nodded bitterly. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“I’ll be back in an hour. In the meantime, make yourself at home, Mr. Morgan.”

Wally entered the room. It was sparse, but nice. There was a bed, a computer workstation at a desk, an open closet full of gray uniforms like the one Brad wore, and a doorway that led into a small bathroom with a small stall shower.

Brad hadn’t returned his weapons yet and Wally figured he didn’t own anything worth unpacking at the moment. He shrugged his backpack from his shoulders and placed it by the bed. Stripping off his layers of filth-encrusted clothing, he headed for the shower.

* * *

Bree
completed the repair to the circuit board she was working on and slid it back into place, closing the cover on the Mark III Wolf’s arm. The Wolf armor was her brainchild, a way to give humanity equal footing against the beasts’ growing numbers. Each of the three Wolf designs had its own strengths and problems. The Wolf Mark III suit she’d just fixed was a perfect example of that. The Mark III was the fastest and sleekest of the series and the only model with any true maneuverability, but it tended to overheat thus frying its control systems. In all, The Bunker housed three Mark I suits, four Mark II suits, and only two of the new Mark IIIs. Overseeing their construction and field tests had taken the last six years of her life, and had she not already been in the employ of the military with almost everything she needed stockpiled inside this facility before the dead rose, none of the suits would exist now.

The door slid open and Brad strolled into the workroom. There was mischief in his eyes. “What’s up, Doc?” he asked with a grin.

“I just finished getting this Mark III back online. I still have a ton of new data to sort through so I can fix this overheating glitch. I’m not exactly in the mood for anything cute so you better—”

“Does the name ‘Wally Morgan’ mean anything to you?”

Bree
felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her hand slapped against the Mark III’s armor to brace herself and keep her on her feet. “How could you possibly know that name?”

He shrugged. “Because he’s here and he says he’s looking for you. From the sound of it, he’s been hunting for you a long time.”

Bree
steadied herself, struggling to regain control of raging emotions. “Take me to him,” she said.

“Somehow, boss” —Brad chuckled— “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

* * *

Thane stood on the hilltop, peering through a set of high-powered binoculars. Far below in the valley, a gathering unlike anything he’d ever seen was taking place. He’d stopped trying to count the number of beasts when he hit three hundred. There was easily several times that number and more continued to emerge from the trees in small packs to join the horde.

What in the blazes is happening down there?
he wondered as he stared at them all.

“General Thane?” Brian called from behind.

“It’s like they’re gathering their forces to go to war, but with who?”

“Thane!” Roberts said, getting his attention, and grabbed his shoulder to spin him around.

Thane knocked her hand from him, taking hold of it in the process. He twisted her arm close to the breaking point as the giant, Amazon-like woman went to her knees before him from the pain. Thane heard the clicking noise of a hammer being pulled back on a revolver as Sebastian leveled a .44 Magnum at the side of his head.

“Let her go, Thane,” Sebastian said.

With a sneer, Thane released his hold on Roberts. She fell backwards onto her butt with a loud thump. Her eyes blazed with anger at the humiliation.

“Lower the gun before I kill you where you stand,” Thane said. The younger man complied, putting away his weapon.

“Uh, guys . . . aren’t we all on the same side, here?” Brian asked.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Sebastian said as Thane tossed him the binoculars he’d just been using.

Thane pointed at the horde below. “Something big is happening. I’m not sure there’s ever been a gathering like that one down there. The beasts must know something we don’t. We need to find out what it is.”

“Actually, General,” Brian said, “I think I might have an idea, sir.”

Thane turned his attention towards him.

Brian cleared his throat, clearly nervous, and continued. “The APC’s comm. system started itself up about an hour ago. The onboard computer was designed to interface with the other units within a certain proximity radius so that individual crews would have a better idea of the big picture of the battle happening around them.”

Thane snarled. “And you’re just now mentioning this?”

“To be honest, sir, I thought it was nothing more than a glitch caused from the damage the APC took before he left New Denver . . . but it could be there are other old world units and military systems operating in the area that caused the APC’s own systems to try to link to them. If so, perhaps it’s why the beasts are gathering, to attack whoever is using them.”

“That’s great, Brian,” Sebastian said, sarcasm lacing his tone, “but it doesn’t change the fact we need to get out of here now before the beasts realize we
are
here and come after us.”

“Wait!” Thane snapped. “Can you use the APC’s systems to track the signal that activated them to its source?”

Brian nodded. “Of course, sir.”

“Thane,” Sebastian said, “we didn’t leave New Denver to go looking for another fight.”

Thane’s hand blurred as he whipped the pistol from the holster on his hip. He put a round through Sebastian’s right knee and another into his arm. Sebastian clawed for his revolver as he fell, screaming from the pain. Roberts came charging at Thane, her battle axe already swinging at his neck. Thane ducked her attack as his pistol cracked again. A round ripped into Roberts’s stomach at point-blank range, splattering her intestines onto the sleeve of his uniform. He kicked her in the middle of her spinal column as she was still staggering from the wound to her guts. She went sprawling, her axe flying from her hands.

Thane thrust his pistol in Sebastian’s direction. “It’s a good thing I’m fine with you both staying here to cover our retreat or I would kill you for taking that tone with me.”

The noise of the shots echoed into the valley below. Hundreds upon hundreds of snarling heads looked up in the group’s direction at the sound of them. Already, a few larger beasts were running for the hill.

“Brian!” Thane shouted. “It’s time for us to go!” He ran towards the APC.

“Thane!” he heard Sebastian cry after him.

The APC’s heavy wheels tossed chunks of dirt into the air as Brian put the hammer down and it roared away from the hilltop. Thane didn’t bother to glance around at those he’d just sentenced to death. They were only getting what they deserved for questioning him.

* * *

Greg sat on the edge of the bed in his quarters. Dr. Morrison had given him a tour of The Bunker as promised when Greg was released from his care. After his tour, he and the doc had met up with a hard-but-polite man with a questionable sense of humor who had been introduced to Greg as Commander
Weger
. They had briefly discussed Greg’s set of skills and in the end decided he would best serve at The Bunker by joining the loose, civilian militia that acted as support and grunt labor for the commander’s soldiers. He’d been assigned new quarters, equipped with the gear he would need, and was told where to report in the morning for his first day on the job.

It was all so surreal. These people, this place . . . it was like the world before the dead overran the earth. The Bunker was nothing short of a miracle and now he was a part of it. He wished Anna and Eric were still alive to see it. His heart ached the moment his late wife’s beautiful face crossed his mind’s eye. Ensuring the others hadn’t seen him, he turned away for a moment and wiped the moisture from his eyes.

After, he felt better knowing that if humanity could truly rise up and reclaim this broken world, it would begin here in The Bunker. Of that, he was sure. There were marvels of technology inside these walls that made the world before the Fall pale in comparison. Years of work, much of which had begun before the dead walked, was at last bearing fruit. Greg knew it was still early, but a strange sort of peace filled him and he didn’t have to report to his squad until the morning. He whispered a prayer of thanks and stripped off his new clothes, climbing into his bed. It was as soft and comfortable as it looked. Sleep came for him hard and fast. He dreamed that Eric and Anna were with him, and also of the future to come. The beasts no longer stalked him in his dreams. There was only laughter and hope.

* * *

The bottom of the small shower was covered in dirt and grime. Water continued to spray over Wally as he shampooed his hair for the third time. The feeling of being clean was both exhilarating and new. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. But showering . . . it was dangerous, too, though. It had made him put his guard down. Someone was in the room. He saw them through the film covering the glass of the shower door. Whoever it was sat on the edge of his bed, helping themselves to a show. He was weaponless and naked as he stopped the spraying water with the twist of a knob. He didn’t bother reaching for the towel that hung nearby on the wall as he stepped out, dripping onto the floor.

“Wow,” he heard a feminine voice say. “And I used to think you were in shape before.”

Wally quickly rubbed his eyes. “
Bree
?” he whispered, taking in the sight of her. Her shoulder-length brown hair cupped the sides of her face and her blue eyes met his own. She wore nothing but a flimsy, lacy black bra that somehow made her breasts seem even perkier than they were despite its lack of support, and a matching black thong.