The Last Peak (Book 2): The Darwin Collapse (29 page)

Beth pointed her pistol at Theresa. Tears raced down her cheeks even as her hand held steady. "I'm so sorry, baby." She shook her head. "So sorry."

Theresa cowered away in the corner of the shower. Elio stepped in front of her. "Don't do it!" he shouted.

BOOM.

A massive concussion outside blew the door off its hinges. It knocked Mason and Ahmed down like blades of grass in a hurricane. Smoke and particulate matter swirled in the air.

Mason lay on the floor trying to catch his breath. He wiped debris out of his eyes. Through the hazy blur, he saw deltas falling left and right. The hallway flashed with gunfire, but all he could hear was the high-pitched whining. He touched his ear and felt the warm slick blood before he saw it.

A blur of fur swept by as Mr. Piddles streaked out into the hallway.

The last of the deltas fell and the blinding flashes in the hallway subsided. A large figure in black tactical gear appeared in the doorway. A black mask and goggles hid his face.

Mason tried to rise.

"Stay down!” the operator yelled as he pointed a submachine gun at his chest.

Mason slumped to the floor looking for his weapons as he did so. The knife wasn't in view. It was likely buried under one of the delta bodies wedged in around them. He looked back and saw everyone on the floor, inside the shower and out, slowly recovering from the grenade blast.

The operator looked back down the doorway. "Clear!"

Another man appeared in the doorway. A thick fur-like sideburn clung to one of his cheeks. The other cheek had a patch of raw, red skin where a sideburn used to be. A substantial paunch hung over the belt line of his pants.

The operator grabbed the man’s shoulder. "Sir, we need to restrain these people first."

The man flung off the restraining hand. “Iridia! My darling daughter!” He clumsily stepped through the bodies on the floor and grabbed Iridia’s hand.

"Daddy!" Iridia said as she held to the side and hugged him.

So this was Anton Reshenko. The man that had unleashed an assault team on his home. The bastard that killed Juice and Linda.
 

He was going to pay.

"You must come with me, dear," Anton said. He passed her into the protective arms of the man in black. "Let nothing happen to her!"

He turned and spotted Clyde in Noor’s arms. His eyes lit up spotlights. “Give me the chimp!”

Noor cowered in the corner and turned to shield Clyde.

Anton lurched over and yanked the little chimp out of Noor’s arms. He held it by the arm like a dirty rag. Clyde howled and cried trying to reach Noor.

Beth screamed. “No! Don’t take him!” She lunged for Clyde but tripped over one of the bodies on the floor.
 

Anton stepped around her and passed it to an operator waiting at the door. “Secure the primate!”

“Yes, sir,” the man nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Beth screamed and struggled to rise. She was going to try something stupid.

Not before he did, though.

Mason spotted the baton partially buried in bits of wood. He slowly reached for it, wrapping his fingers around the handle.

Anton turned to him. “I am Dr. Anton Reshenko. You are Mr. West, I presume?”

Mason wasn’t in a chatty mood. He swung the baton up at the forearm of the operator. The end of the metal shaft connected with a satisfying crunch. He scrambled to his feet and drove a shoulder into the injured man’s sternum and drove him backwards out into the hall.

He raised the baton and chopped down at Anton’s head but stumbled mid-swing. The angle changed and caught him on the shoulder. Anton crumpled to the ground like his bones had turned to jelly. The baton rose for the death blow.

SHUCK-SHUCK.

"Drop it!" Another operator appeared at the door pointing a Mossberg 500 at Mason's chest.

A baton versus a shotgun might’ve been a fair fight under the right circumstances. But the operator had the drop on him. It would punch a hole in his chest before the baton moved an inch.
 

"Okay,” Mason said as he opened his fingers and let the baton fall to the floor.

“Step back!" the operator yelled.

Mason did as ordered while also scanning the room for an opportunity to turn the tables. Nothing came to mind. There just weren't a lot of options when a professional had a shotgun pointed at you.

The operator helped Anton to his feet and pulled him into the hallway.

Anton cradled his left arm in his right. He groaned and cursed. He stared at Mason with murderous eyes. "Take them with us. All of them. Except that one."

Another operator appeared and dragged Ahmed into the hall. He returned and grabbed Beth. "Let's go!" He dragged Beth out of the shower and passed her to another operator standing in the hallway.

“No!” she shouted and struggled to break free of an unyielding grip. “Don’t leave him!”

They were
not
going to take his family. Mason lunged for the rifle hanging from the man’s chest when the butt of another rifle smashed into his cheek.

The impact torqued his head to the side and dropped him to the floor in a heap.

The muzzle of the rifle pointed at his forehead as a black boot doubled him up with a kick to the stomach. "You stupid piece of shit."

"Don't kill him!" Anton yelled from the hallway.

The operator pressed the muzzle hard into Mason's forehead. It felt like the man was trying to dig a hole through his skull with a blunt stick.

"Why not?"

"Let the deltas find him,” Anton replied.

A voice echoed in from the hallway. "Sir, we’ve got incoming contact outside. We need to get moving.”

"Get everyone on the chopper!" Anton shouted. He looked at Mason as he rubbed his injured shoulder. He grinned wickedly. “I might’ve thanked you for keeping my daughter safe, Mr. West.”

The operator flipped around the rifle pinned to his head and then slammed the butt into his face.

The world winked out.

ELIO
grunted as one of the soldiers in black shoved him into a seat. The same man pushed Maria down next to him.

"Buckle up!" the soldier shouted to be heard above the roar of the helicopter’s spinning blades.

Elio clicked his lap belt and helped his mother with hers. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She said something but he couldn’t make out the words.

CRACK. CRACK.

The gunshots punched through the blanket of sound buffeting the cabin. Two soldiers sat on the lip of the doorway with their feet braced on the skids below. They picked off the faster deltas that broke free from a pack approaching from down the street.

CRACK.

“We need to get this goddamn bird in the sky!” one of the soldier’s shouted as he pulled Ahmed into the cabin and shoved him toward a seat. They were all inside. All except Mason.
 

Elio stared at the group of hunters closing in. They would find Mason sooner or later. And there was nothing any of them could do to change that.

“Hold onto your asses!” the pilot shouted.

The whine of the engine increased. The helicopter lurched to the side as it broke contact with the street and jumped up into the air. Elio gasped as the lap belt dug into his waist. One of the soldiers on the skids lost his balance and tumbled forward. He fell ten feet and smacked into the pavement.
 

CRACK.

A bullet punched through the metal skin of the helicopter. Elio couldn’t tell where it ended up.

The man howled in pain as the first delta reached him. The others piled on.

"Leave him!" Anton shouted.

“But, sir. He’s got no chance on his own.”

“Then he shouldn’t have fallen out. Take us up!”

"Yes, sir,” the pilot said.

The helicopter lifted into the air and the screams of the dying man quickly faded away. A soldier slammed the door shut and then dropped into an empty seat.

Elio’s stomach rolled over as the chopper clawed for altitude. It slid sideways through the air in a sickening way that reminded him that he never wanted to ride a helicopter again. He turned to Theresa and saw the tears in her eyes. He touched her forehead. The skin burned his fingertips. The fever was getting worse.

Beth sat on the opposite side of Theresa. Their eyes met as his hand drew away. The hollow look in her eyes told him she knew what was happening. Theresa was infected and there were only two possible outcomes.
 

Bleeding to death as her body broke down, or worse, changing into a delta.
 

She held Theresa tight and looked away, staring blankly at nothing in particular. He recognized the emptiness in her eyes because he'd seen it many times in his own mother's. As much as Elio wanted to fight his way free to help Theresa and rescue Mason, he wasn’t stupid enough to believe it would do any good. He wasn’t a scientist or a soldier. He was a kid.

And he wasn’t even that great at that job either.

Iridia sat at the front of the cabin with her father. Anton was his name. The man definitely wasn't what he'd pictured for a super smart scientist guy. He looked more like Elvis past his prime. A used car salesman with a splash of crazy.

Anton glanced at Elio and his eyes narrowed as he studied him.

Elio squirmed in the seat and wanted to look away. Anton regarded him with a cold calculating gaze. As if Elio were bacteria mashed between two glass plates and being studied under a microscope.

No. As unimpressive as Anton appeared on the outside, Elio could tell he was a dangerous man.

His eyes watered and yet they could not blink. Anton's gaze hypnotized and dissected him.

Iridia pulled her father's attention back to whatever it was she was shouting in his ear.

The mind control ended and Elio's eyes dropped. He took a big breath after realizing he’d stopped breathing. There was something dangerous, something mesmerizing about her father. He projected the self-assured mania of a false prophet. His absolute expectation of your obedience almost ensured it.

One of the soldiers sat near the front with Clyde in his lap. The poor little guy tried to escape toward Noor but the soldier held him tight.

The helicopter lifted higher and Elio gasped as he stared into the distance.

Los Angeles was destroyed.

Smoke billowed into the air from innumerable fires below. A solid, frozen river of cars choked every highway. The unbroken mass disappeared into the distance in every direction. Freeway ten to the east. The four-oh-five to the north and south. Millions of people in millions of cars all trying to escape at once. It was never going to work. It was like trying to push a watermelon through a water hose. The roads simply weren’t made to move that volume of traffic.

They only kind of worked on regular days because everyone didn’t want the same thing at the same time.

They crossed over the ten and headed toward the towering skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles. In the mid-day sun, the air hanging above the city looked darker than usual. He would've thought that without all the millions of cars spewing noxious chemicals into the air every day that the smog would've cleared out in no time. And maybe it would have. But the hundreds of fires around the city spewing dark smoke more than accounted for the decrease in emissions.

Elio’s stomach jumped into his throat as the chopper jerked to the side and dropped altitude. He gritted his teeth to keep from puking, and then they stabilized. He squeezed his mother tight as much to reassure her as himself.

A beeping alarm pierced the noise of the blades chopping through the air. A red light in the ceiling of the cockpit flashed on and off. The pilot checked gauges and flipped switches trying to handle whatever the problem was.

Anton grabbed a headset clipped to the wall and slipped them over his head. He yelled into the mouthpiece as if that might help the situation.

The helicopter bucked again and Elio barfed into his mouth when it rolled over onto its side. He doubled over the seatbelt with his arms and legs dangling freely. He looked through the closed side door at the ground some two hundred feet below. His back slammed into the metal wall as the chopper rolled and righted itself.

The piercing alarm continued to whine as the pilot wrestled with the controls. The nose dipped forward and they plunged downward like the big drop on a roller coaster.

Only they weren't on rails and Elio didn't expect to make it off this ride.

His mother screamed and her vice grip around his hand tightened further. He realized it would've hurt if his brain had the extra bandwidth to process the sensation. But it didn’t. It was fully occupied with the certainty that he was about to die.

The ground rushed up to meet them.

Elio's head swam. The weirdest sensation assured him that he was stationary and that it was the world falling toward him. Cars that had moments ago looked like children’s toys grew larger as they plummeted.

The chopper bucked forward and a large, yellow school bus came into view. It rushed at them at a dizzying speed.

Elio pinched his eyes shut. He held his mother's hand with all the strength left in his body.

The chopper jerked up at the last second. His stomach bombed out of his throat. His hip bones dug painfully into the thinly padded seat. He blinked his eyes open as the front of the school bus disappeared underneath the front of the chopper.

And then it crashed.

His head slammed into the metal wall as everything jerked to the right.

A terrifying screech stabbed the air as the blades dug channels into the pavement before shearing off completely. Sparks flew and the side door peeled away as they skidded over the concrete. The cabin rolled several times and then slammed to a stop into the side of a building.

Elio sat motionless wondering if he was dead. A thought dimly occurred to him. He couldn't be dead if his whole body hurt this badly. Right?

He licked his lips and tasted the salty metallic bite of blood. He squeezed his eyes open and realized they were upright. He checked on his mother. She had a gash on her cheek dripping down onto her chest. She moaned, which meant she was alive. On the other side, Theresa slumped in the seat blinking slowly as Beth ran her hands over her daughter’s body.