X war infestation, p.23
X WAR: Infestation, page 23
The truck driver looked at her curiously. "Why don't you take the bus?"
"It's too late, and I have to be across the river so I can go home. Can I just ride with you until we get past the bridge?"
The man shrugged as he unlocked the side door. "Okay."
Ming grinned as she stepped up on the truck's running board, opened the door, and slid into the front seat. "Thank you."
The man kept his eyes on the road while shifting gears and the truck began moving once again. "You know there's a curfew on, right?"
"Yes, but I needed to finish my work or my boss said I wouldn't get paid."
He snorted. "He sounds just like my supervisor! Bad egg bosses are all the same."
"You got that right."
The truck made it past the intersection. Ming could see the white painted bridge's superstructure looming above, like a pair of gigantic letter A's being held up by suspension cables, when in actuality it was the span itself that was being supported by them.
Although the streetlights along the walkway had illuminated the length of the bridge, both Ming and the driver gasped in surprise when they saw a roadblock situated right in the middle of the span. A small fleet of four police cars had blocked off the three lanes leading to the outskirts of the city.
Ming clenched her fists. "I need you to drive through the left side of the road and get past them."
The driver looked at her in confusion. "Are you crazy?"
"I'll pay you," she said, taking out a wad of bills from one of her pockets. "You've got to get me through."
The driver shook his head and placed his foot on the brakes. "Oh no, no, no. I will not mess with the police. You must be a criminal. You get out of my truck."
Ming still had the fist-sized rock in one of her pockets. She didn't know why she hadn’t dropped it while still in the park, yet she figured there was no other way now. Pulling the rock out, she slammed it against the side of the driver's head.
The man cried out in pain as he tried to push her away. "Stop it!"
Ming snarled. Her mental state became like that of a caged beast, and nobody would prevent her from reuniting with her family. Using her left arm she parried his defensive writhing and smashed the rock onto his forehead a second time.
The screaming driver's right hand got caught in the door handle, and as he struggled to get away from her attacks, he somehow managed to push the door open. The hapless old man let out another cry as he tumbled backwards out of the truck's cabin, and fell onto the side of the street.
Pulling herself into the driver's seat, Ming closed the vehicle's door and began shifting gears, hearing the crunching noises coming from the transmission as she failed to tap on the clutch. She had never learned how to drive, but she figured there was no other way as the cops at the roadblock up ahead started shouting and pointing in her direction.
The truck lurched forward and slowly accelerated as the sirens of the police cars began to wail. Two police officers stood in the middle of the bridge, commanding her to stop.
Ming kept shifting gears, hearing more crunching noises as she continued to push against the accelerator while twisting the steering wheel to steer the truck towards the three open lanes to the left.
One of the police vehicles maneuvered around the other cars until it stopped in the middle of the three left lanes, trying to act as a roadblock, just as Ming finally managed to bring the truck up to full speed and barreled towards it.
Several cops had pulled out their service weapons and began firing as the truck shot past them and collided with the front hood of the blocking car before continuing onwards. Ming grunted as the windshield shattered and she felt a sharp, sudden pain in her left shoulder.
More gunshots, and now the seemingly invincible vehicle she was driving in shuddered and began to skid as the burst rear tires made maneuvering sluggish. She had nearly made it across the span when one of the police cars following the truck rammed Ming's vehicle from behind, pushing it slightly towards the bridge's guardrails that were installed to block access to the adjoining pedestrian walkway.
Ming screamed as the truck nearly spun around before its rear cargo compartment skidded against the steel railings. She tried to turn the steering wheel to compensate, but she lacked the strength and failed. The truck swerved to a halt, and she was unable to get it moving again.
Pushing the door open with her shoulder, Ming jumped down and started to run parallel along the guardrails. The other end of the bridge was in sight, and it felt like she was crossing into freedom if she could just make it past the span.
More gunshots came from behind her. Ming groaned as she felt a sudden weight collide against her spine, and the pain in her lungs suddenly doubled to the point of intolerance. The force of impact and her awkward momentum sent her down onto the pavement.
Ming could feel blood seeping out of her mouth as she coughed and looked up, having one last glimpse of the desert sands in the near distance before she closed her eyes for one final time.
48 Utah
HAVING FINISHED HIS afternoon workout, Gossard took the elevator up one level so he could get to the mess hall for some refreshments. It had been days since their successful strike against the UFO cultists near Seattle and he should have felt some elation at least, but he ended up retreating into himself instead.
The deaths of his colleagues shouldn't have bothered him since Gossard thought he was used to it by now, yet for some reason he felt hollow when he heard the news of Chuikov's passing. Ever since he became part of Task Force Zero he felt a wanton dislike for the Russian operatives he was fighting with, but now it seemed he was affected by the pangs of regret.
Chuikov was a damned good operator, he thought as he passed by a group of engineers on their way out of the canteen. In the end we all fought and died for each other like brothers, but I never gave him the respect he deserved.
The mess hall was mostly empty, save for a small crowd of what looked to be civilians sitting in a group at one end of the place. Two of the older women with the bunch turned and smiled at him, yet he paid them no mind as he walked up to the service area and grabbed a plastic tray.
A bacon, sausage, and egg sandwich seemed to have been sitting under the heating lamps for too long, but he took it anyway before moving towards the coffee dispenser. Gossard didn't feel like talking to anyone, so he figured he'd just get some food into his stomach to keep him going until dinnertime. He had heard that Chuikov had a wife and daughter back in Russia, and he felt a sudden urge to write to them, telling them that the man he served with was a good soldier.
Aw, who the hell am I kidding? Gossard thought as he placed the cup of coffee on his tray and turned around, checking to see if he knew anybody. This unit is classified, and they'll never allow that kind of letter.
He spotted Blake Birch sitting by himself at a corner table, and Gossard made his way over to his fellow SEAL. "Hey, I haven't seen you in awhile."
Birch looked up at him and nodded. "What's up, Goose?"
Gossard placed the tray on the tabletop before sitting down in front of it. "Your eyes tell me you've seen some recent action."
Birch sighed while sipping his coffee. "Yeah, we had to do an extraction, but that's all I can say about it."
Gossard leaned back as he picked up the sandwich from his plate and began to eat. He could tell by simple deduction that Birch's team had taken some casualties. "Who bought it?"
"Noah and Logan. All because we had to bring in some limey bastard."
"Yeah, it sucks."
"You heard anything up the grapevine?"
"There's been some rumblings about going into China, but that's all I heard."
Birch shook his head slowly. "If the Chinese are with the aliens, then we're screwed. We'll have to fight our way through a billion of them before we get to the real enemy I bet."
"I don't want to think about it. I'll just go where they order me to go."
"That's the best attitude to take I guess."
Mitchell Strunk came walking into the hall with a smile on his face. The official representative of the DOD stood over the small crowd of civilians and he seemed to chat with them for a bit before gesturing at the group to follow him out.
Gossard swallowed a mouthful of coffee as he saw the civilians slowly make their way out, with one of the elderly women being helped by an Army servicewoman. "Who are they?"
"Oh, just dependents of the scientists we recovered from those Etherians."
"And they brought them in here? I thought we weren't allowing any unauthorized personnel into this base?"
"According to Colonel Wegener, it's less of a security risk if we bring their relatives in here rather than allowing the scientists to see their dependents outside. They're afraid the aliens might kidnap them again."
"Oh yeah? Why can't we get our dependents in here with us too then?"
"From what I heard the scientists went on strike and demanded they be reunited with their loved ones, and the engineering teams supported them," Birch muttered.
Gossard cursed. "We're the ones who are doing all the dying, and we don't get to see our own dependents? Maybe we ought to go on strike too."
"Our lives mean nothing, dude—you know that. We do this for God and country. Anyway if we go on strike, we're liable to get shot for mutiny. You get my drift?"
MITCHELL WAS ALL SMILES as he led the group towards the elevator doors. "We're so sorry for the delay, but there was a mix up in our security protocols. But don't worry, we've prepared a special part of this facility as a sort of lounge so you can spend some time with your loved ones."
An elderly woman with puffball silver hair and thick glasses nodded serenely as the elevator doors opened. "I really can't thank you enough for rescuing my husband and reuniting us."
"It's the least we could do," Mitchell said as he helped to usher them into the lift. When they were all inside, he pulled out a special keycard and inserted it into the slot. The elevator immediately began a descent to the high security levels of the base.
He continued to smile as the lift doors opened once more, revealing a large subterranean corridor up ahead. "This way, please. The lounge is just two doors down."
"Oh, it feels like we're underneath the mountain," one of the other women said.
"That we are. We used special machines to bore through the solid rock, and most of our facilities are brand new."
One of the younger women in the group raised her hand. "I need to go to the bathroom if that's okay."
"Certainly," Mitchell said, pointing towards a set of doors at the other end of the tunnel. "You can join us in the lounge when you're done."
The woman with long jet black hair patted the forearm of one of the older females. "I'll be back in a bit, Mom."
"See you later, Violet," Margaret McClusky said to her daughter as the latter moved away and headed towards the restrooms.
As Mitchell led the rest of the group into the lounge, he had a distinct feeling he had seen Violet McClusky before. Her face seemed so familiar but he just couldn't place it. Putting his concerns aside, he ushered them into the room.
SHE WOULD BE LEAVING for the nation's capital in a few hours, but Jane Cornell's curiosity was unabated. There were so many questions she wanted to ask Thorne, since the hours she had spent listening to him only brought up more issues in her mind.
The detainment area was one floor above the research level, and she made her way into the cell block after passing through the inner checkpoint. The State Department had already transferred the suspected Russian spies out of the base, and Thorne was the only prisoner left in the entire wing.
Jane's footsteps echoed along the bare corridor before she got to the end of the cell row. "Good afternoon."
Thorne had been lying on his cot when he heard her footsteps, and he quickly got up and had put his shoes and coat on by the time she made it to the front of his cell. "And a good afternoon to you too, Mrs. Cornell. What brings you here?"
"I'm heading back to DC in a few hours to attend a series of meetings so we could discuss your revelations and formulate policy."
"And you've come to say goodbye? How thoughtful."
She smiled. "Actually a few things did come to mind. I was hoping for a short chat."
"More questions then? Alright. At least it will help to alleviate the boredom of this place."
"I know you really weren't privy to the technology these aliens were using, but why didn't they just reveal themselves to us at an earlier time? With their power we would have worshipped them as gods in the past."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not all too familiar with the inner workings of the Compact," Thorne said. "I believe that these extraterrestrials have been here in the distant past, but for some reason they chose not to interfere with human scientific development for several hundred years, at least."
"No clue as to why at all?"
He shook his head. "No, sorry. Like you, all I can do is merely speculate. The Cabal never got the full story as to the whys and the hows."
"How long has the Cabal existed?"
"As human civilization became more complex, so did alien involvement. Based on the conversations with my peers, I believe the Compact began to once again involve themselves in human affairs in the nineteenth century, and the Cabal was formed around that time."
"How did you get chosen to become a member?"
"My father was a master mason, and he revealed it all to me after I was initiated into the Freemasons. Members of the Cabal are free to choose their successors, and I believe three generations of my family served the group."
"So you were never given a choice if you didn't want to be part of such an organization?"
"When the secrets are revealed to you, then you must accept. To turn down the offer is tantamount to death," Thorne said.
"I see."
"Are you religious at all, Mrs. Cornell?"
"Call me Jane. I used to be agnostic, but after what you've told us, I guess I'm now an atheist."
Thorne chuckled before sitting back onto the edge of his bed. "I can only imagine what all this means to our society. The very concept of God being swept away by the truth of our origins may trigger a lot of unrest."
"We still need to debate whether much of what you've told us is to be made public or not."
"I understand. The truth will profoundly change our world, if it hasn't already."
"Everyone's belief in everything has been shaken," Jane admitted. "It's as if the boat we're all sitting in encountered a freak storm, and now we don't know whether we'll sink or stay afloat. How were you able to keep things in perspective?"
"When the Compact announced that ascension was coming, it was a shock to me as well. I never expected it to happen in my lifetime."
"I know this question has been asked before, but is there any way we could come to an understanding with the Compact? Can't we forge a truce or something?"
He smiled while shaking his head. "Do human beings make peace with animals? We breed chickens and cows for food, and exterminate pests like cockroaches and termites whenever we find them."
"But we're not lower order animals. Humans are capable of language and reason."
"That is meaningless to the Compact. Humanity is nothing more than a byproduct in their quest to create a hybrid species that will host their consciousness in order to prevent extinction."
"So there's no hope for peace at all? It's just kill or be killed?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Thorne said.
"Was Mordrake an example of this hybrid race the Compact is trying to create?"
"I'm not sure what Mordrake was, to be honest. Colin Tillinghast once told me that the Etherian leader was a failed experiment by the Compact, yet Mordrake's abilities were exceptional."
"They sure were. Based on what I heard, our assault teams were nearly wiped out when they faced him."
"Yet they succeeded due to some unknown help," Thorne said. "I also heard that Mordrake's body was in pieces and he was buried at sea, yes?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Mordrake's corpse was mostly intact. In fact, we're still examining his remains at this very base."
Thorne stood up. He had a look of surprise on his face. "What did you say?"
"I said his corpse is here. Is something wrong?"
"Tell me—the crystals embedded in his body, were they removed?"
Jane shrugged. "I'm not sure, probably not until the autopsy is completed."
Thorne grimaced as he held onto the bars of the cell with white-knuckled hands. "You fools! Mordrake isn't fully dead yet!"
STEPPING OVER THE BODY of the dead sentry, Irene Lancet dashed through the security checkpoint and made her way towards the laboratory section of the research wing. Since the surveillance cameras continued to function, she figured she'd have just a few minutes before reinforcements would arrive to arrest her.
More than enough time, she thought while glancing through the transparent walls of each room she passed. When she finally reached the third door to her left, the clump of crystal she carried began to glow.
Irene used the recently deceased guard's security card and managed to get the door open. She ran past the empty medical examination table and pushed through a secondary door and into the cold storage section. Built along the walls were rows of freezer units for storing corpses.
The crystal had told her where to find him, and she didn't hesitate, opening the small doorway and pulling back the slab where his body lay. Staring down at the seemingly lifeless form, she placed the clump of crystal she had once carried inside her body onto the large hole in his lower torso.
"Arise again, my master," she said softly as the radiance of the shards in his body began to intensify with an inner blue light. In less than a minute, her devotion was rewarded when Edward Mordrake opened his eyes and sat up.
49 Virginia
