Origins (The Wasteland Chronicles, #2) (13 page)

That’s when the Howlers came out.

***

S
tumbling from the darkness came two human forms. One was male, and one was female, their forms rotted and coated with slime. Their clothes were in tatters, revealing their pale nakedness. They screeched as they shot forward, reaching for me with gnarled, clawed hands.

I raised my Beretta at the male, right in his face as his open mouth went for my neck. I fired. A hole opened through his forehead, and his body fell backward as brain matter spewed from the opposite side of his skull, plastering the Bunker door. He crumpled to the ground in a heap.

The woman went after Anna, who sidestepped her deftly. Anna slashed the Howler woman in the back with her curved blade. The Howler woman wailed in pain, falling to the ground. With her boot, Anna stomped on the Howler woman’s back, pinning her to the ground. I could hear the woman’s skull crack as her face planted on the floor. Anna stabbed downward, right through the back of the woman’s head below the skull.

More Howlers poured from the open door, about a half dozen. Shots were fired, and one of them was felled. But two, one a man and another a child, snuck by and tackled Kris. She screamed as they buried their faces in her neck, ripping still-living flesh from it in quivering gobbets. Blood spewed into the air as her screams became bloody gurgles.

Yelling, Harland pulled one of the monsters off Kris as Anna came forward to sever the adult male’s head from its body with a clean, expert swipe. Lisa handled the child Howler with a look of revulsion on her face, stabbing it in the back of the neck with her combat knife.

In front of me Drake dealt with two Howlers. He pulled a javelin from his quiver and launched it. The javelin speared the head of the Howler, going clear through to the second, skewering them both.

I faced another Howler, a fat male with blackened veins on his pink and cadaverous face. His wide-open white eyes bored into mine as he gave a baleful roar. His hands grabbed my shoulders, causing me to drop my gun. I shook him off, reaching for my knife. I gave a few swipes, hitting only air. The fat Howler leaned forward, backing me into the wall. Desperately I slashed again, spilling his guts. The Howler fell to his knees. I kicked him with my boot, sending him backward to the floor. Samuel, after dispatching the last Howler still standing with a point-blank shot from his handgun, gave another shot to the sprawling fat Howler.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the downed Howlers were bloating. They would explode, coating everything in this room with purple slime infected with the human strain of the xenovirus.

“Run!” I yelled.

Kris convulsed on the floor as we all ran for the hallway to take shelter from the explosions. Drake was the last one out of the blast zone. As soon as he rounded the bend, two gushy plops sounded from the room, followed by several more. Walls of purple slime shot past, splattering against the brick and filling the room with a horrible reek that made me want to throw up.

We waited. When we were sure the bodies were done rupturing, we went back to survey the damage. Mangled, torn bodies littered the room, along with pieces of flesh, bone, and organ that had been propelled by the explosions. The stench was unbearable, one of raw sewage and organic rot.

“Kris...” Harland said.

Harland ran from us. We followed him back to the entrance to the bunker, ready for more of those things to come out. For now, that black entrance was quiet as the grave. Kris was still convulsing, blood coursing from the bite wounds on her neck.

Samuel looked grim. “There is nothing we can do for her.”

Harland was quiet, his eyes burning and unaccepting of the facts.

“She’s infected with the xenovirus,” I said. “She will turn into one of them.”

“Look,” Makara said, walking up with her handgun. “Let me take care of it. Before more of those things come out.”

Harland’s eyes narrowed at her with hatred. “Stay away from her.”

He turned to me.

“You. This is
your
fault. If you hadn’t opened that door...”

“Back off, Harland,” Makara said. “You don’t want me to get angry with you.”

Drake pulled one of the javelins from his back, arching his arm back.

“Stop!” Samuel yelled. Everyone turned to him. “Kris is gone. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. How long have you been in the Great Blight? Surely you would know about the new strain of the xenovirus that targets humans. And from what you saw back there, I’m sure you know how dangerous it is.”

Harland said nothing, his eyes dark and vengeful. Anna stepped forward.

“Leave this to the pros,” she said.

With that, she arced her blade down in a blur. Kris’s head was promptly sliced off.

Harland roared, turning to Anna. Drake ran forward, grabbing Harland’s arms with his meaty hands.

“Boss,” he said in his deep bass voice, “calm down.”

Harland was livid. It looked as if he wanted nothing more than to murder Anna.

“I did what I had to,” Anna said. “She could have come back any minute as one of them.”

“Won’t she explode?” Makara asked.

I shook my head. “Seems they have to come back to life first. It’s when they get the white eyes that you’ve got to be careful.”

“How do you know that?” Samuel asked, eyes hard.

“Because my friend died before she turned. She...” It was hard to make myself go on. I tried not to think about Khloe, but it was hard. “One of those things bit her back in 108. She died, but I buried her before she turned.”

I left the rest unsaid. I didn’t want to bring that nightmare up again. I didn’t want to think of her buried in the harsh red sand outside Bunker 108 and moving underneath. I liked to think that she rested in peace, and was not one of those monsters.

“Well, I’ll trust you on that one,” Samuel said. “We’ll keep an eye on this body, and make sure nothing happens.” He eyed everyone, including Harland and Drake. “I need you two to help. I don’t know how many of these things are in here, but I need fighters. Are you two good to do that?”

“You’re going in there?” Harland asked. “After all of that?”

Samuel got in his face. “Don’t push me, Imperial. I will do whatever it takes to get my team and myself out of here alive. If you two want to be a part of that, I suggest you help out. You can grieve for your dead later, but
everyone
will be dead unless we can find an escape through here.”

Drake scowled, but looked to Harland for direction. Harland did not say anything for a long moment. He nodded grimly.

“Lead on.”

Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “We can’t let anything slow us down. They might break in upstairs for all we know.”

I did not want to question Samuel. I really didn’t. I couldn’t contradict him in front of these two. But if what happened at Bunker 108 was any indication, we had no shot at clearing this place out and finding what we needed.

“After you guys,” Harland said. “Drake and I will bring up the rear.”

“That’s fine,” Samuel said. “Just do your job.”

In a swift movement, Drake retrieved his javelin. The two bodies it had pierced crumpled further to the floor.

Harland gave a sneer of a smile, but Samuel ignored it, pressing himself into the darkness of the bunker.

We all followed.

M
y stomach twisted as we entered the dark Bunker. With the smell of rot intermixed with the sting of metal, it was hard not to think of that horrible night at 108 that had changed my life forever. The atrium looked nearly the same as the one in my old home. There was a half-circular desk close by the right wall. That’s where Deborah Greene would have sat, back in 108. Deborah was dead, along with everyone else in Bunker 108, my father and best friend included. I half-expected ghosts to float down the halls. I had to do my best to keep it together.

There was a thick metal door behind the desk. I knew what lay beyond it.

“Might not have to go too far after all,” I said. “That door leads to the armory.”

“Nice work,” Samuel said.

Makara hopped over the desk, and gave the door a try. The latch wouldn’t budge.

“Figures,” she said.

Harland had wandered from the group, and was shining his light on a directory on the wall.

“This might help,” he said. “If anyone cares to look.”

Everyone gathered around the map. This bunker was smaller than 108 – I saw that much. It had five levels – 108 had seven – but the layout was much the same. Cafeteria. Commons. Dormitories. An Officers’ Wing. Hydroponics and fusion reactor on the bottom floor.

There was one major difference – there were no labs. Instead, a long tunnel led to the edge of the directory, cutting off there. An arrow pointed upward, off the map. Beside the arrow was the word, “Hangars.”

“Hangars?” Anna asked. “Was this place an airport?”

“Could be,” I said. “Each Bunker was assigned a specialization. 108 and 114 were both medically and research oriented. I don’t know Bunker 40’s designation, but this could have been where planes were kept.”

“Would be nice, just to fly out of here,” Harland said.

No one answered him.

“Nice thought,” Lisa said. “But none of us can fly.”

Harland turned to her, eyeing her up and down. “Now, you’re not bad-looking. What’s your name?”

Lisa shot him a venomous glare. “Done grieving already?”

Harland grinned unashamedly. Lisa turned away with a disgusted look.

“What now?” Makara asked.

“The armory’s accessible from the Officers’ Wing as well,” Samuel said, turning from the map. “So that’s where we’ll go. We can resupply whatever we didn’t have time to grab from the Recon. After that, we can find a way out.” He gestured down the hall. “Let’s go.”

As we walked down the deserted corridors, I noticed that the Bunker was surprisingly clean for something that had been infected with the xenovirus. No xenofungus stained the wall, as it had in Bunker 114. There was only the foreboding smell of decay that promised more trouble ahead.

We came to an intersection. Samuel pointed left, and we followed him.

We walked deeper into the cold bunker, our flashlights bouncing off the walls and corners. It felt as if we were being watched, or that Howlers were waiting for us around the next bend. The fact that we couldn’t see anything past our flashlight beams, nor hear anything, made it worse. There was only the smell.

Soon we stood before an arch in the hallway. Bold letters above read “Officers’ Wing.” Hopefully we could find what we were looking for here.

Samuel motioned me to take the lead. The layout of 40’s Officers’ Wing was basically the same as the one in 108. There were some slight differences I couldn’t explain, but could feel.

I pointed to a nondescript metal door on the left. This one stood half open.

“This is it.”

We turned the corner. Half the guns had been looted, but there was still plenty of firepower left.

“Jackpot,” Makara said.

In addition to the expected handguns and rifles, there were also batons, body armor, grenades, heavy machine guns, and submachine guns. We each already had weapons but we were light on ammunition. I had brought my pack, but the rest hadn’t had time to grab theirs. I rummaged through boxes of 9-millimeter ammo, taking as much as I needed.

“Grab all the ammo you can,” Samuel said. “Alex can carry extra.”

Lisa sorted through packs and boxes until she found .308 rounds for her sniper rifle. She cracked a rare smile. Those rounds were rare, so finding them was a huge boon.

I waited while everyone else loaded up. The plethora of guns before us was tempting, but I liked my Beretta. It felt right in my hands and I wouldn’t dream of replacing it.

It was then that I noticed something was off.

“Wait,” I said.

“What is it?” Samuel asked.

All at once, we realized what was wrong. Harland and Drake were missing.

***

“H
ey!”

Samuel’s voice boomed into the corridor outside. He ran out, pistol in hand. He scanned left and right, and looked back at us.

“They’re gone. They’re really gone!”

We all hurried out of the armory. Down the hall was an open door. I could have sworn it had been closed a minute ago. A stairway led down into darkness.

“What the hell are they doing?” Samuel asked.

“I don’t know,” Lisa said. “Maybe they went on without us.”

“Something could have snatched them, or drawn them away,” Samuel said. “I am not leaving anyone behind. Even those two.”

“They left
us
behind,” I said.

“Snatched them?” Makara asked, with an arched eyebrow.

“I don’t know!” Samuel said. “Just let me think.”

“No,” I said. “Let me. They’re trying to trick us.” Everyone looked at me. “They want us to go after them, so they can ambush us.”

Before anyone could respond, we heard two screams coming from the direction of the stairs. It sounded like Harland and Drake.

“We should just leave them there to rot,” Makara said. “Shut the door, bar it, and find another way out.”

“I said,
no!”
Samuel yelled. “They need our help. No one deserves to be left in here. Not even them.”

Anna brushed a strand of hair from her eye. “Fine,” she said. “But I think you’re making a mistake. Let’s just finish this quickly.”

“Lead away,” Lisa said.

Samuel strode to the door. He pointed the gun down the stairwell. Makara came from behind and shined her flashlight down. The light revealed nothing but thirty to forty steps descending into a dark, claustrophobic corridor. I knew going down was a bad idea, but I kept my mouth shut.

Samuel started down, and the rest of us followed, our feet clanging off the metal. The stench of death became more pungent as we descended. We reached the bottom of the steps, and there the odor of death in the cold air was nearly unbearable. The corridor opened up into a room.

“Quiet,” Samuel muttered.

The three flashlight beams shot around the chamber, revealing the vertical metal bars of prison cells. We were in the detention center. This one was much larger than the one in Bunker 108. There were twelve cells, six on either side.