Dawn of the Mad (30 page)

“Where are they headed?” Roman asked. Corporal Scotts intently studied the holomap. “If they continue, they will most likely come out here.” He raised a section of the map, which rotated and flashed the two likely exits.

“That’s not too far from here,” Roman said. He surveyed the scene at the warehouse. “Looks like we could catch them before the cops will.”

The warehouse area had turned into a giant traffic jam, as police cars and military vehicles tried to get to the back of the lot. Others tried to get to the main road, but they were blocked by disabled cars and empty cars whose drivers had fled and were being held back by the police perimeter. Roman got back into the driver’s seat.

“Whenever you’re ready, ladies, we can go, I’m driving.”

Captain Cruwell jumped into the passenger seat, his EMR jutting out of the window. Scotts and Sergeant Matthias jumped into the back of the Crown Vic, each also sticking an EMR out his window. The car roared to life, and Roman eased it out onto the roadway. Using his emergency lights and siren, Roman managed to negotiate through the gridlocked traffic via the sidewalk. Using directions from Scott’s holomap, he quickly approached the van as it weaved through traffic at a steady but high speed. There were no police cars currently following it.

“Wow. Hard to imagine they missed it,” Sergeant Matthias commented.

“Actually, not really,” Roman replied. “The police will be trying to minimize civilian casualties. Hopefully, he will go north and get to a less populated area. I’ll try to hang back until we can find a good area to take them down.”

The van continued north on a four-lane road and finally got to the outskirts of the city. The jurisdiction of the Metro police ended here, and they didn’t have many units in the area. Only the county sheriff had assets outside the city limits to use, but it seemed he wasn’t letting that happen. Roman thought they were all alone until Scotts looked over his shoulder out of the rear window and said, “I think they found us again.”

Police sirens could be heard faintly in pursuit, and they could hear a helicopter overhead again.

“It’s now or never guys. Make the call, Sebastian,” said Matthias to Cruwell.

Cruwell looked behind him and up at the helicopter. He turned around and stared ahead at the fleeing van. “OK. Let’s take it out now. We will disable the vehicle. Kill the others if you have to, but try to get the alien alive.”

Everyone rechecked their rifles. Roman leaned over, took his hand cannon out of the glove box, and press checked it.

“Locked and loaded. Let’s do it.”

Roman slammed down hard on the accelerator and pulled up to the van’s bumper.

CHAPTER 27

“We’re being followed!” Skinny yelled. He reached into a small duffel bag on the floor of the van and pulled out a pipe bomb with a short fuse protruding out of it and a Zippo lighter bearing the inscription “1st Marine Division-Fallujah ’04.”

“Eat this!” Skinny lit the fuse and tossed the pipe bomb out of the side of the van. It hit the pavement and detonated a second later, causing the black sedan in pursuit to swerve to the right. The sedan straightened out and continued its pursuit. Reaper leaned out of the van’s side and squeezed off a short burst with the M-249, causing the black sedan to swerve to the left of the van out of his sight.

“What’s going on back there?” Cyrus leaned out of the front window and looked behind the van but didn’t see anything.

“We got company!” Skinny yelled back.

Suddenly, the van jerked violently to the left. Randy tried hard to keep it straight, but the rear tires had been shot out. The van went off the road and plowed through a two-strand barbed wire fence. A couple of cows grazing near the fence line barely made it out of the way as the van hurtled through the fence, finally coming to rest at the edge of a large pond after hitting a large tree stump with considerable force.

Reaper got out of the van but had to hold onto the side door for support, he felt lethargic and weak still. He raised the M-249 and waited for the black sedan to follow the van through the fence. Skinny retrieved another pipe bomb and poised himself to light the fuse and throw it. Randy and Cyrus staggered out of the van, blood streaming from a cut on the left side of his face and walked to the side sliding door. Smoke began to curl from underneath the hood. The van was covered with bullet holes but had severed its purpose well.

“Too far; I was careless, foolish.” Dr. Keitel spoke aloud to himself as he haphazardly removed clothes from a closet and piled them on the bed. Satisfied that he had enough, he stuffed them into a large Samsonite suitcase he found in the bedroom closet. He had already gathered most of his necessary medical supplies and equipment, stacking it by the front door of the apartment. There was only one problem now: He knew he could not continue to use the black Mercedes, because the police would surely be looking for it, and him. He finished packing, his thoughts now turning to acquiring a new vehicle. It would be easy enough to wait in the parking garage and wait for a tenant to return and appropriate another vehicle by force. A sudden shout from outside in the hallway interrupted the thoughts racing through his mind. He picked up the Glock-17 pistol that belonged to the state trooper he had murdered earlier. The sleek pistol fit comfortably in his sweaty palm.

“Metro police! Search warrant!” The shouting and commotion outside the door indicated the presence of many policemen. Dr. Keitel looked briefly out the window. There was no escape; he was on the third floor, with one exit out of the apartment.

“Metro SWAT! We are coming in!”

“Oh my, how I have failed.” Dejected, Dr. Keitel walked into the study and sat down on the floor next to the decaying body of the coroner, Dr. Jewell. Weeping a single tear, he placed the pistol against his temple and pulled the trigger as the SWAT battering ram smashed the front door inward.

“Nice shooting, Roman.”

“Thanks. I’ve always wanted to shoot out the tires of a moving car.” Roman eased the Crown Vic off the road. A couple of passing cars had stopped, but Roman waved them on. He continued driving through the gap in the fence. Up ahead, he spotted the smoking van. Roman immediately stopped the car. Scotts and Matthias immediately jumped out and ran into the brush, out of sight.

“What the hell?” Roman exclaimed. “Where are they going?”

“Relax,” Cruwell replied. “They’ve done this sort of thing before.” Suddenly, the front windshield of the Crown Vic was peppered with bullet holes, causing Roman and Cruwell to duck. Both men were showered with shattered glass.

“Get out!” Roman shouted.

Roman and Cruwell each rolled out of the car. Up ahead they could see a large, pale-skinned, tattoo-covered biker firing a machine gun in long bursts. They could also see a couple other bikers firing behind him. Cruwell let loose with short, controlled bursts from his EMR, causing the bikers to take cover. The machine gunner, however, stood his ground. His grip on the weapon seemed to weaken, however, and its bullets started kicking up dirt in front of the Crown Vic. Electro-magnetic rounds, leaving their distinctively colored vapor trails, erupted from the side as Corporal Scotts and Sergeant Matthias opened fire. Skinny was hit immediately, and he fell to the ground screaming, dropping his lit pipe bomb.

“Fire in the hole!” Randy yelled as he tried to get out of the way. Matthias rose up from his position and cut him down with a volley of well- aimed shots. Cyrus returned fire with his AK-47, striking Matthias in the shoulder and right arm. Matthias cried out in pain and dropped his EMR. Scotts pulled him down to the ground just as the pipe bomb detonated. The explosion ignited the bullet-riddled van, which had been leaking fuel from its perforated fuel tank. A ball of fire erupted, and a small mushroom cloud of smoke rose from the wreckage. Charred $100 bills began to swirl up in the warm draft from the fire before floating to the ground. Roman and Cruwell helped Scotts drag Matthias back to the car. They could hear sirens approaching.

“Get him in the car!” Cruwell yelled.

Scotts and Roman dragged Matthias into the back seat of the Crown Vic. He had slipped into semi-consciousness and was bleeding profusely from his wounds. Scotts ran back to Cruwell, leaving Roman to attend to Matthias. Roman made his way to the back of the vehicle and opened the trunk. He retrieved a first aid kit and set to work.

“Where is he?” Scotts asked as he approached Cruwell, who was looking around near the burning van. They circled the area cautiously, their weapons aimed at the ground but at the ready. Suddenly, Scotts cried out, “There he is!”

The pale skin of the Reaper had changed to a bright red. Sweat cascaded down his bald head, clearly stinging his black eyes. He dragged himself slowly away from the wreck. His right leg had been sheared off by the pipe bomb blast, and black ooze flowed freely from the stump. His right arm also was badly cut. Black ooze leaked from his ears and his nostrils as well.

His progress was halted by a boot stepping on his back, pressing him to the ground.

“That’s far enough,” he heard.

Reaper slowly turned onto his back. He saw Cruwell and Scotts staring down at him, their rifles aimed at his midsection. He coughed, sending droplets of black ooze into the air. A smile slowly broke over his scratched face.

“So it ends.” He coughed again.

Cruwell looked over at Scotts, who nodded. They both shouldered their rifles, reaching down and picking Reaper up by the arms and dragging him toward the Crown Vic. Over Reaper’s cries of protest, Cruwell replied, “We’re not done with you yet.”

Roman ran toward them and yelled, “Hurry up!”

Seeing the tangled, bloody mess they were dragging, he said, “How is he still alive?”

“Yeah, a sight to behold,” Cruwell said. “Get him in the trunk!” The three quickly put Reaper into the trunk of the Crown Vic. Roman got into the driver’s seat, Captain Cruwell in the passenger’s seat, and Scotts in back with Matthias. Roman threw the engine into reverse and backed the car through the hole in the fence. When the vehicle hit the pavement, Roman U-turned southbound. Headed north directly at them were several police cars and two Humvees. A few police cars U-turned and gave chase.

“Where are we going?” Roman asked as he gunned the engine, weaving in and out of traffic.

“Back to your place,” Cruwell answered. “We can activate the trans-mat and get out.” Cruwell looked into the back seat. Matthias was now unconscious; his shoulder and arm bandages were soaked through with blood.

“He doesn’t have much longer; might have hit an artery,” Scotts said. “He’s lost a lot of blood.” Cruwell looked at Scotts, who pointed to Matthias’s bandaged side.

“He’ll make it,” Cruwell said. “We just need a little more time.”