The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion Book 2) (2 page)

“So the immortality thing was bullshit?”

“For the other Boon, but not Martinez. She’s the only one who has the virus that could possibly grant immortality. Dr. Curran can’t give any assurances of what may happen to Vanguard Martinez and to protect The Bastion, she told the castellan to eliminate both Boons.”

“But if he knows Maria isn’t like Denman...” Lindsey instantly realized what he’d do. “He’s not coming back because he’s going to infect himself.”

Commandant Pierce’s full lips slightly twisted. “Romantic, isn’t it?”

The dread that had been filling Lindsey at the thought of Dwayne having to kill Maria dissipated. “They’re going into the world.”

“Most likely. Dr. Curran is convinced he’ll return with the samples. But then again, I don’t think she understands how deeply the castellan loves Martinez.”

“So what do we do?”

“We protect them if possible. If the SWD realizes they’re alive, immune, immortal, and out there in the world, they will exhaust The Bastion’s resources trying to find them.”

“To stick them in a lab,” Lindsey grumbled.

“To experiment on them. For the good of humanity, of course.” Commandant Pierce rubbed her temples. “But we know that it would never be administered to the general populace. Imagine an immortal government.”

“They can’t come back,” Lindsey said, the knot in her stomach reforming. “Ever. They’re exiles.”

“Dr. Curran isn’t even certain how the virus in Martinez would affect the general populace. Vanguard Martinez was in exceptional health when infected. The civilian population is not as fortunate. There’s a possibility of an adverse reaction.”

“Like the Anomalies?”

Commandant Pierce sighed, then bobbed her head once.

“So it’s not like Maria could come into the city and kiss everyone and it would be instant utopia,” Lindsey joked, but her tone was laced with despair.

“A kissing spree like that could result in an instant outbreak with only a few of the infected becoming Boon. This was the issue with the Anomalies. Dr. Curran doesn’t have enough data to extrapolate on the long lasting effects of the virus that Vanguard Martinez has in her veins.”

Something in the commandant’s tone frightened Lindsey. “You’re not thinking of killing Maria, are you?”

“No, no,” Commandant Pierce answered. “Let Dwayne and Maria go find a life together if that’s what they want. But once the Constabulary is in control of the city’s defenses, I will not allow them back into The Bastion. I can’t risk humanity. There are too many unknown variables and hazards. Dwayne may be willing to risk all for the woman he loves, but I can’t risk The Bastion.”

Lindsey grimly agreed with the nod of her head. She was never going to see Maria again. The thought shot a sliver of ice through her heart.

“This situation has created a strange dynamic between us,” the commandant continued after a beat. “I would not usually divulge such information to a sergeant, but you’re a valuable asset to me and this city.”

“You can trust me,” Lindsey said, lifting her chin. “I want what’s best for The Bastion, too.”

Commandant Pierce met her gaze evenly, and then slightly smiled. “I’m glad we understand each other. Now, take care of Denman’s body. I don’t want Curran getting any samples off Denman.”

“But doesn’t the SWD already have the virus?”

“Admiral Kirkpatrick ordered all the viruses destroyed after the Inferi Boon were successful as a precaution against further outbreaks, but it was probably a move against Curran. I have a feeling that Kirkpatrick regards her as a wildcard. He also ordered all the Boon bodies to be burned. Dr. Curran presently doesn’t have any sway with the SWD, but that could change once the worm goes out tonight.” Commandant Pierce started to reach for the controls next to the door, then hesitated. “Dr. Curran is a temporary ally. Though I do believe she will do everything she can to destroy Mr. Peterson and Admiral Kirkpatrick’s designs on taking over the city, she’s also going to be maneuvering herself into a position of power.”

“And she knows about me, Vaja, Petra...” Lindsey narrowed her eyes on her wristlet. She could instantly make herself invisible to the city sensors, but she had nowhere to really hide.

“We’re going to have to be hyper-vigilant.”

“You’re afraid of what she might do, aren’t you?”

“She likes to play with people’s lives and viruses.”

“Will she tell the SWD about Maria’s virus? And that she might still be alive?”

Commandant Pierce lowered her brows, obviously pondering the question. “Once she’s in power again, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to find Maria. But she’ll keep it to herself for now.”

“Because she wouldn’t want anyone else getting the glory.”

“Exactly. Vanguard Rooney, this isn’t over yet. But we will be victorious.” The commandant extended her hand, a small silver star-shaped rank pin in her palm.

Lindsey arched her eyebrows, realizing she’d just been promoted to vanguard. “Yes, sir.”

The commandant deftly attached the pip to Lindsey’s collar. “Suit up and get things done.”

“Yes, sir!” Lindsey saluted, her heart wildly fluttering.

With a satisfied look, the commandant opened the doors and strode out.

In a daze, Lindsey followed, her fingers tight around her cane. Gradually, a smile slid onto her lips as she realized the commandant hadn’t even questioned if she could fulfill her assigned task. It was the first time in a very long while that someone hadn’t doubted her abilities because of her damaged leg. Lifting a hand, she touched the small star on her collar in awe.

With a straight spine and determination in her stuttering gait, Lindsey rushed to suit up.

Chapter 2

The wind sweeping off the mountain range enclosing the vast valley buffeted the tiltrotors as the vehicles circled over the drop zone. The darkness of the night was broken by the bright flashes of the tiltrotors’ bombardment against the howling Inferi Scourge. In the distance, near the hydroelectric plant, there were fires, but Master Seeker Torran MacDonald and his squad were being set down near the mines. Firebombs were not allowed in that area due to the underground coal deposits.

The tiltrotors banked and swooped low over the dwindling horde of Inferi Scourge. Instead of fleeing, the rampaging undead creatures raced toward the deadly flying craft. Even when the tiltrotors opened fire, the bullets shredding through the flesh of the undead, the survivors continued to race along the ground, following the flight path of the tiltrotors.

“Fuckin’ Scrags,” Fortis Plebis Sara Goodwin grunted beside her superior officer. “They act like they can somehow grab us right out of the sky.”

“Maybe they think they can,” Torran answered. “They do have one track minds.”

“Yeah, to bite us.” Goodwin’s round, pale face was grim behind the facemask of her helmet. A strand of red hair clung to her sweaty brow. “Fuckers are not going to get a chance with me. No way I’ll ever be a Scrag.”

The Scrags, as the military nicknamed them, had no sense of self-preservation or awareness. The Inferi Scourge Plague Virus not only returned the infected to life, but compelled them to bite and infect the living. The sole purpose of the reanimated dead was to spread the virus

“Keep alert, follow orders, and don’t try to be a hero, and you’ll do fine,” Torran assured her.

Strapped into the tiltrotor, Torran’s squad was preparing to disembark once the area was cleared of the immediate threat of the Inferi Scourge horde. The readout on the facemask of his helmet was a fast scroll of updated information from the battlefield. At last, the final campaign for the land and resources surrounding The Bastion was well under way.

In the distance, the massive gate into the valley was closed. Decades before, it had been sabotaged by a group called the Gaia Cult. The cult had been devoted to exterminating humanity in order to save the planet. They’d opened the gate and escorted a massive horde of the Inferi Scourge through the opening. The Scrags had swept into the valley and destroyed the city’s resources such as farms, ranches, mines, fuel depots, and settlements, effectively trapping humanity behind the high walls of The Bastion.

Tonight, all that had gone wrong was being set right. The gate was closed, the Inferi Scourge were nearly eradicated from the valley, and Torran MacDonald was leading one of the Science Warfare Divisions search and destroy squads on a mission to clean up the last pockets of the Scrags. He was grateful to the mysterious special ops team that had wiped out nearly all the undead in the valley. They had his utmost respect. Sadly, word was that the last of the special ops team had died earlier in the day near the hydroelectric plant and now it was up to the SWD search and destroy teams to mop up the Inferi Scourge in their honor. The pride that swelled within him at the thought of the successes the mission had garnered so far was tempered by the fact that they weren’t done yet. The night stretched long and treacherous before him and his squad.

Shuffling his boots against the metal floor, he swallowed the hard lump in his throat. The last time he had faced the Inferi Scourge, he’d watched his former squad be dragged down and infected by the undead. He’d barely escaped with his own life. His emotions were a mixed bag of excitement, fear, and the thirst for revenge for his fallen comrades in arms.

“Master Seeker MacDonald, we’re making another pass,” the female pilot’s voice said through the comm link. “Prepare to disembark.”

“Understood,” Torran answered. Flipping his comm to speak to his squad, he said, “Time to kill Scrags and avenge our fallen brothers and sisters.” His Scottish brogue was a bit stronger than usual, but his squad was used to it. Torran’s family was from the Scottish borough of The Bastion and the distinctive accent of Scotland still lingered on the tongues of the small contingency from the fallen country. “Keep to the mission, no deviations. Remember, the abnormal Inferi Scourge may attempt to speak to you, but you are to kill them on sight. Even if they wear the uniforms of the SWD and Constabulary, they are the enemy. There’s no cure other than a bullet to the head.”

The nods of black helmets all around the interior of the tiltrotor was what he expected.

“Fucking Abscrags,” another soldier grunted, and there were murmurs of agreement. It was Ray Jonas, a lanky young man with dark brown skin and deep red hair. “Can’t act like normal Scrags. Have to ruin the flow.”

This brought guffaws from several others, but there were enough tense faces to indicate the squad was well aware of the danger of their mission. The group of twenty – twelve women and eight men – were tightly knit and worked well together, but they were also very green when it came to real world interactions with the Scrags. They’d only been involved in one sweep of the subway system that had unearthed some abnormal Inferi Scourge, mockingly nicknamed Abscrags. It had been an intense fight. The Abscrags had created projectile weapons from the scraps of the abandoned settlements outside The Bastion walls. Though the SWD armor had deflected most of the incoming shrapnel, Senior Seeker Rosario Smyth, his right hand, had ended up severely injured when one of the Abscrags had tossed a handmade grenade at her. Though she appeared to have fully recovered, he could tell by the set of her jaw that she was dealing with her own fears. Noticing he was studying her from across the narrow walkway, she forced a smile.

Torran winked at her and the smile turned genuine. Dark eyes focusing, Rosario shook off whatever thoughts had been sifting through her mind and sat up straighter. “Scrag or Abscrag, they’ll die tonight.”

The squad stomped one foot against the metal floor and grunted in unison. It was something Torran had taught them to do to inspire a sense of unity. When he’d arrived at the SWD, he’d found the squads disorganized and adrift. He’d busted his ass for a year to make them into actual soldiers. Tonight would prove whether he’d succeeded or not.

The tiltrotor banked sharply, then hovered over a clearing. The escorting tiltrotors continued to fire at the remains of the once-large herd of Scrags. The undead numbers were now significantly reduced, much to Torran’s relief. The special ops squad had done an impressive amount of killing to clear the valley of so many of the Scrags, but now came the cleanup. In some ways, it would be harder to search every little nook and cranny to ensure none of the Scrags were still alive.

The tiltrotor lowered and the hatch at the rear yawned open.

“Prepare to disembark,” he ordered.

Torran unhooked his harness and was instantly on his feet. The vibrations underfoot were a little disorienting at first, but he rapidly found his balance and moved to the head of the squad. Simulations never quite captured the reality of disembarking from a tiltrotor.

Torran narrowed his eyes on the information scrolling across the clear faceplate of his helmet. The scans of the area were incomplete due to equipment in the area malfunctioning after years of neglect. Hopefully the projected number of Scrags wasn’t wrong. It was unnerving to see how many were rushing into the spotlights of the tiltrotors. The aircraft hovered fifteen feet above the ground, but that wasn’t keeping the Scrags from attempting to charge and leap toward the extended ramp. The gunner in the rear managed to keep the scattered raving undead at bay.

“We’re clear to set down,” the pilot’s voice said through the feed.

The sensation of Torran’s insides dropping as the tiltrotor descended was an unnerving reminder of the last time he’d faced the Inferi Scourge on a mass scale. Gripping one of the overhead straps and setting his feet apart, Torran fought to keep his balance. A flash of memory from the fateful day he’d rushed across bloody, sodden ground as the Scrags chased down the soldiers attempting to erect a new perimeter outside The Bastion’s walls filled him with unease. Inwardly shuddering, he reminded himself that this was not the same sort of situation. The valley was nearly cleared. The advantage had finally shifted to the humans.

The tiltrotor lowered until it was almost touching the ground, but close enough to allow the squad to exit. Barreling across the slanted ramp and leaping down, Torran aimed into the darkness dwelling beyond the pools of luminosity cast by the lights on the underside of the aircraft. As he moved out of the sanctuary of the spotlights, the helmet night vision flicked on, revealing shapes moving through the murk toward their location.

The mining facility area loomed straight ahead. The mine had been instantly sealed off when the gate had been compromised, so at least they didn’t have to venture down into the endless tunnels to clear them out. The main building sat to one side of the weed-lined road and across from thick woods.

“Keep alert,” Rosario’s voice ordered.

She was right behind him and her presence was reassuring.

Rushing into the darkness toward the facility, the squad kept together in a tight formation as the tiltrotors soared into the starry sky. The finality of their departure uncurled a ribbon of dread within Torran. Swallowing hard, he kept focused on the task the squad needed to perform. Securing the area was of vital importance.

The Scrags erupted out of the trees lining the fissured asphalt that had once been a parking area. Torran aimed and pulled the trigger of his weapon. The slight jolt as it discharged was almost as reassuring as the Scrags tumbled to the ground.

The search and destroy squad hit the downed fence line and Torran glanced toward the rundown building looming before them. It had been built to last a century, so the foundation and walls were still upright, though covered in dense vines. The reinforced windows in the front had deep gouges burrowed into the thick glass. The openings, surrounded by a latticework of cracks and edged with greenery, were large enough for a human to crawl through. The Abscrags must have used their makeshift weapons to punch through.

“They’re inside,” Rosario said in a grim tone.

“We should have known this wasn’t going to be easy. Check the guard posts outside the mine,” he instructed Rosario. “Then make sure the mine doors are still secure.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “At least the mine doesn’t have windows.” She gave him a brief smile behind her faceplate before switching her comm to speak only to those in her party. It was disconcerting to see the life signs of half his people wink out of his display, but they were Rosario’s responsibility now until the squad reformed.

Immediately, Rosario and half of the squad peeled off to race toward the small building near the massive steel doors. They’d performed this mission maybe a hundred times in the training rooms, but this was far different from the holographic images projected in the safety of the SWD Facility.

The Scrags continued to appear out of the murk, hurtling toward the force with only one intention: to infect. The harsh bark of weapons firing overpowered the screech of the Scrags. Torran kept his focus on their objective, moving swiftly to the entrance of the building with his people at his back while thinning out the undead. The Scrags were drawn to the humans like bugs to lights, so it was easy to decrease their numbers with short bursts of gunfire.

The Inferi Scourge looked just as Torran remembered: like frightfully wounded human beings. So many people had died in the initial outbreaks when they’d perceived the Scrags to be victims of violence, not actual monsters, and they paid a terrible price when they’d rushed to offer assistance. The virus froze the bodies at the moment of death, and only milky, vacant eyes gave away to their undead nature. The virus could simulate life, but not the soul.

“Open it,” he ordered when he reached the heavy metal door.

Jonas darted forward, a key-hacker in his hand. Pressing the device over the locking mechanism, he swiftly activated it. The key-hacker fed just enough electricity into the lock to allow Jonas to enter the access code. There was a loud, audible click as the tumblers inside the door sluggishly whirled into motion after years of disuse. Jonas disengaged the key-hacker and dodged around Torran while stuffing it in his pack.

The door retracted, revealing a long corridor. Weapons at the ready, the squad advanced at Torran’s signal. The night vision created an eerie environment for them to traverse. The Inferi Scourge were room temperature, so they were very difficult to spot if they remained still. Torran was very uneasy about the whole scenario. He’d worked diligently to shape the SWD security forces into actual soldiers, but experienced Constabulary soldiers would’ve been better for the job. If only the SWD had allowed the Constabulary to participate in the clearing of the valley. Torran worried that the SWD’s small security force didn’t contain the personnel needed to do the job. He wasn’t privy to what exactly was going on between the SWD and Constabulary hierarchies, but he sure as hell wished they’d found a way to collaborate on the strangely named Operation Cleansing Waves.