Primeval (Werewolf Apocalypse Book 2) (38 page)

For her part, Nicole couldn’t stop glancing over at Sandy. Her heart ached at the thought of her girlfriend’s rejection. She wished she could go back in time, let Burns handle the assassination of Howard. But time didn’t work that way, and as her grandfather used to say “Wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.” Nicole realized too late how she would appear to Sandy, but she also knew she had done the right thing in killing the infected man. If he’d been allowed to live, he would have followed them, tracked them down, and killed them mercilessly. He was a detriment to the group and had to be eliminated. She only wished (there’s that wishing thing again) that Sandy hadn’t witnessed the act. If it had been out of sight, it would have been out of mind. Now, she was afraid she may have lost the love of her life, and her heart ached for Sandy. If their relationship survived this night, it would be a miracle. Nicole found herself praying for just such a miracle.

General Taylor Burns found himself thinking about what kind of a world was going to greet them when they climbed back up to the surface. It had been immeasurably bad when he and Nicole had sprinted to the subway. They had constantly been under attack by one kind of creature or another, barely having time to breathe. He was trying to hold what was left of the group together, and he was especially worried for Sandy who seemed to be under the misconception that everything was going to be fine and dandy once they got out of the city. But Burns had seen New York as it had started to fall, and that had been a good five or six hours ago. He wasn’t even certain if Tommy Hemmer would be waiting for them with his helicopter or if they were going to surface in the city with no possible escape route. Also, he wasn’t naïve enough to think this new strain of the virus was going to be contained so easily. The Army could blow the bridges and destroy the ferries and boats, but something would always get out. If just one single rat creature escaped through a sewer, then the rest of the boroughs would fall within days. After that, the United States was fair game, and then the whole world would turn into one snarling, ferocious, and primitive planet. Humanity and all the creativity and passion and love would be gone in a few days. Burns decided he would be one of the survivors. He wasn’t going to take the destruction of humanity lying down. He was a fighter. He would wrestle this virus until it rolled over or until he was consumed by it. There had to be a place where people could live outside of the roiling bestial state the world was heading for. If not, he would be the founder of it.

Michael was wondering if it was all worth it. He was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion and lack of food. He had been running on sheer adrenaline, and now that it had dissipated in his system, he was spent. He almost wanted to lie down and wait for his death to come. If only he hadn’t assumed the responsibility for these four people who were following him, especially John, who seemed to be keeping up with little aid from the others. He knew if he hadn’t assumed leadership, he could have closed his eyes for the last time. Only, he was in charge of this group, and their lives depended on whether he could get them out of danger and into Brooklyn. As he walked, he thought of his girlfriend and her daughter. They were a part of him, but a part of him that had died long ago, replaced by this underground dwelling mole man. He wished he knew what they looked like now – were they still human? If he could have that bit of fantasy to clutch to his heart, he knew he could find the energy to go on. If he could only know they were safe, that he could find his way back to them once the horror show had finished. If only… If only…

John moved along, stumbling now and again, but refusing to lean on anyone, to become dependent upon anyone else. They were all tired, and the reporter knew they didn’t need someone leaning on them and dragging them down. Still, although he continued to improve in body, his spirit was growing more and more disheartened. He’d always related his entire self to his job. He was a reporter, damn it, from the old school of journalists. Even when working for a ridiculous yellow rag like the
World Weekly News
, he held himself up as a real newsman. He’d never developed relationships, other than those that helped him professionally. He’d never married or had kids or even serious girlfriends. He was too busy with The Job. Now there was no job, no
World Weekly News
, probably no place left where he could keep a desk and a computer. And without The Job, who was he? Grimacing in pain when he turned a corner, he reached back and touched his shoulder, feeling the wound. The pain was like a knife, but it stirred him out of his ruminations and back to the real world and their real problems.

The group splashed through the tunnel, their flashlight beams growing increasingly dimmer as they moved. They stayed silent, waiting for something to spring out of the darkness at them. They kept their thoughts to themselves, hoping and praying.

They were surrounded by the dark, which was filling with the sweet scent of natural gas.

And they each wondered if they would make it through the night.

11:10 p.m.

Michael noticed the tunnel obstruction a hundred yards off, but he couldn’t see how effectively it blocked their way until they were within spitting distance. The roof had collapsed into the tunnel, or it had been purposefully blown to stop anyone’s progress through the subway and off the island. From floor to ceiling, the way was barred by chunks of collapsed concrete, collapsed rafters, shattered bricks, mortar, and earth. Michael leaned against it, shoved at it hard in the corners. When the barrier didn’t give way, he turned back to the others.

“We aren’t getting to Brooklyn through here,” he said. “We’ll have to go up top and take our chances.”

General Burns marveled at the destruction, running his hand along an exposed iron beam that now traversed the space from floor to ceiling. He said, “This is an Army demolition job. No way was this done by accident.”

Nicole asked, “You think everything’s blown like this? Sewer tunnels, too?”

“If they thought to blow the subways, then they’ve remembered the sewers,” Burns answered with a nod. “Admirable, actually. They’ve done a thorough job of it.”

“And stopped us dead,” Sandy said. “How are we going to get off Manhattan now?”

Michael added, “It’s got to be terrible up there. All these years I’ve lived underground like some kind of mole, but even though I didn’t enjoy life up top, I was never afraid of what I’d run into. Now…”

“We don’t have much choice,” Nicole said, interrupting him before he became too maudlin and dragged them all down with him into his own abyss of despair. She could tell Sandy was precariously close to that edge already. “Can we call the helicopter, General?”

He tried again, punching in the number on his cell phone. He was a bit worried at how low the battery charge was getting, but he didn’t tell anyone about his concerns. “No,” he said finally. “No signal down here. Not that that’s so surprising. Once we’re on the surface, or near it at least, I can try again. We’ll get that helicopter here to pick us up and get us someplace else.”

“Which will hopefully be better,” Sandy said, leaning her back against the pile of rubble barring their way.

“You know where we are, Michael?” Burns asked.

“We just passed the Fulton Street platform. It’ll get us close to the water, by Pier 17.”

“That’s the East River, right?”

“Yeah. Pretty close to the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Are there ever boats on the piers?”

“The South Street Seaport is right out there. There are usually a bunch of boats and water taxis. Most of them are historical, though, pretty old. You think we can hijack one and cross the river in it?”

“It’s worth a try if we can’t get hold of the helicopter,” Burns replied. “Anyone know how to drive a boat?”

Nobody stepped forward. Sandy kicked at the ground, disturbing a pile of dirt at her feet.

“Well, how hard can it be?” Burns asked, feigning a cheerfulness that he didn’t actually feel. “The Lycanthropes can’t swim. We saw that in Cincinnati. They’re top-heavy, and they sink like rocks in any kind of deep water.”

“What about the rats?” John asked.

“Well, they’re new to me, so I don’t know for sure, but they are larger than normal rats in the head and shoulders. Chances are pretty good that’ll throw them off their swimming game. Make them top-heavy.”

“It’s better than sitting here inhaling gas fumes,” Nicole said. “I say we go for it.”

Michael nodded. “We certainly aren’t going anywhere this way. It’s worth trying.”

“We’re all going to die up there, you know,” Sandy said, her voice low, her eyes full of unabashed fear. “You can all be as hopeful as you want, say all the right things, but you all know we can’t survive on the surface.”

“We can’t stay down here, honey,” Nicole said, moving toward her girlfriend. “If that gas ignites, we won’t be as lucky as the last time.”

“I’m starting to think Beth and Alice were the lucky ones. They went quickly, died before they could even get the scream out of their lungs. I wish that’s what had happened to me.”

“You don’t mean that, Sandy,” Nicole said.

“Don’t I?” the woman practically spit the words at Nicole, who shrank back a bit. “We’re probably going to die at the hands of those monsters, ripped apart, scratched and bitten and dragged away to some den someplace. Or worse, we’ll turn into one of those creatures, like Howard. We’ll become fucking savages without any sense of ourselves, like soldiers, like killers. Like you.” She glared at Nicole.

“You… you don’t mean that,” Nicole said. “You can’t.”

“I do.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Please,” Sandy said. “Don’t call me that. At least, not now.”

Nicole blanched, and she felt as if she’d been slapped across her face. This wasn’t like Sandy, the woman she’d fallen for so violently. Sandy was the kind of person who saw hope in every day, who could always detect the silver lining in any storm cloud. The woman was the eternal optimist. She wasn’t this brooding, hateful being that stared daggers into Nicole’s heart.

“We’re all pretty upset,” Burns said, trying to steer the conversation back toward his escape plan. “Sandy, girl, we don’t have any choice. We do need to get out of here and try to get to a safe place.”

“It’s a lot of trying for something that may get us all killed.”

“But if we stay here, we’ll die for certain. Not right now maybe, but the gas is gonna blow soon enough, and I, for one, don’t want to be anywhere near this tunnel when it does. I’d rather take my chances on one of the boats.”

“And if the boats are all destroyed?” Sandy asked. “Like the tunnels and bridges?”

“Then, we’ll move on to plan B,” Burns suggested.

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

“Damned if I know.”

“Please, Sandy,” Nicole said, trying not to whine. “This isn’t the way this story ends. We need to go on, living our lives. What about that baby?”

“I don’t think I can justify bringing something so delicate into a world like this. It’s a terrible place now, isn’t it? The rule is by tooth and claw?”

“You might be right,” Nicole agreed. “Then again, I think we should test the waters, see what’s going on up there. Maybe everything’s contained and all the fighting is over.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“Maybe,” Nicole said, squirming a bit with the lie. She knew perfectly well how ridiculous she sounded, but she was willing to try anything to keep Sandy with her.

Even to lie about everything she believed.

Even give up everything she loved.

Even become someone else.

“Sandy,” she said, leaning in towards her lover. Sandy gave her an eye roll. “If we get out of this alive, I swear I’ll give up the Army. I’ll be a housewife and stay-at-home Mom. I’ll… learn to cook. Maybe learn to freaking sew. I want to be there for you, sweetheart, no matter what happens.”

“You love the military,” Sandy snorted.

“Not as much as I love you,” Nicole said, struggling to get Sandy to meet her eyes. “I think… I think I just realized that.”

General Burns, John, and Michael watched dumbfounded, unable to utter a word. Finally, John leaned over to the general and said, “I wish I had some popcorn. This is better than reality TV.”

“You mean it?” Sandy asked. “You’d lose the guns, the knives, the week-long werewolf hunts?”

“If it meant keeping you close, then, yeah. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat.”

Sandy gulped. She realized how big a step Nicole was taking, but she couldn’t get over that gory image of her girlfriend cutting through Howard’s throat with that big-ass knife. She thought it over for a moment.

“Ladies,” Burns said, tapping the face of his watch. “It’s going on midnight, and I think we’d better skedaddle while we can.”

“All right,” Sandy said. “Let’s go.” She turned to Nicole and added, “But you’d better come through on this promise, or you’ll be finding yourself another woman.”

“Thank God,” Nicole said, reaching out and hugging Sandy. “Oh, thank God.”

“Not now,” Burns shouted. “Cut the girl on girl action and let’s get cracking. You can celebrate when we’re safe.”