He rolled onto the third-floor roof, breathing heavily. Raising himself to a sitting position, he took stock of his surroundings and then looked below to be sure the batman hadn't returned. He was alone. He stood and released his rifle from its sling, bringing it to low ready as he began to move along the roof and look for an entrance.

  The fourth floor appeared to have been constructed later than the rest of the building. Its walls were stucco coated instead of brick, and the air conditioning and generator units appeared to be much newer. He followed the electrical conduit coming out of the individual units along the outer wall until they ended at a junction box. Next to the box was a metal door. He tried the handle. Locked. Still, it was an entryway. All he had to do now was get it open.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jacob jammed the edge of the bayonet into the narrow opening between the door and the frame, leaving smears of the batman’s blood as he wiggled the blade back and forth, trying to dislodge the door strike. The door moved slightly against the hinges, but not enough. It became quickly apparent that the effort was futile. The locking slide was a solid piece of oval-shaped metal—a deadbolt. Jacob pulled the blade out and sheathed it. Looking around for anything he might be able to use as a crowbar, he heard the sound of rapid gunfire from the southwest corner of the building. Was the major making his move? It didn't matter. He wasn't about to go running back without at least Tee in tow.

  He picked his rifle up from the wall where he'd leaned it and flipped the selector switch to semi-automatic. The wall around the metal doorway was stucco, which most likely meant there were only two-by-fours underneath. If he couldn't pry it open, he'd shoot it open. He took aim and squeezed the trigger, placing a single shot just above the area on the frame where the door was latched. A wide hole opened in the stucco, but the metal frame only dented. He fired again and again, placing two more shots in the same location. A small hole appeared in the metal frame. He looked around to be sure the noise he was making hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. He was still alone on the roof. He aimed the rifle again and fired two more times, opening a wider hole and exposing the locking mechanism. He secured the rifle and drew the bayonet again, jamming it into the space between the door and the frame. The door gave way more this time and the blade slipped further in, giving him more leverage. He pushed, being careful not to expose his arm to the blade as he gradually pried the door outward. With the locking mechanism exposed and the screws that held it in place shot away, the door opened.

  As soon as the door was free of the latch, Jacob dropped the bayonet and moved back, raising his rifle. But there was no one to shoot—only an empty hallway. He pulled the LED flashlight from the tac vest and slid it into the holder beneath the barrel, tightening it in place with the provided thumbscrew. The beam shone brightly down the darkened hallway as he entered. Ahead of him, for what he guessed was close to fifty yards, there was no sign of anyone; there were only closed office doors. Judging by the dust that had gathered on the wall-mounted lighting fixtures, he didn't think this was a wing of the building that had been used recently. He kept the rifle aimed in front of him as he neared the end of the hallway and rounded out into another. How many hallways were there on the fourth floor and where was the hallway he'd been in earlier? He needed to find the bank of elevators. The hallway with the office the major had been using was only a short distance away from there.

  Twisting and turning through three more short hallways, light from a fluorescent bulb caught his attention up ahead. This could be the hallway he was looking for. When he was here earlier, the lights had been on, illuminating the hallway from beginning to end. He turned off the flashlight and re-aimed his rifle, gradually turning the corner. Just as he'd hoped, he was positioned at the opposite end of the hallway from the bank of elevators.

  He jogged towards the office the major had been using. The door was open. He rounded out, aiming the rifle into the room and clearing it of any threats before entering. On the desk, right where the major had left them was a set of blueprints. Jacob closed the door and leaned his rifle against the desk as he unfolded the documents. He flipped through several pages until he found the ground floor, guessing that the storerooms wouldn't be too far from the loading docks. He studied the page in detail, but his intuition appeared to be wrong. Nowhere on the page could he see anything marked storage. He flipped to the second floor and repeated the process, with the same result. And again with the third and fourth floors. Frustrated, he pushed the documents off the edge of the desk and onto the floor. If Tee wasn't in the main building, then where was she?

  It dawned on him that even if he found a room marked storage, there was no guarantee that was where the medical supplies were stored. The room could just as easily contain cleaning equipment and boxes of toilet paper. He sat down in the leather chair behind the desk and thought back over the conversations that had gone on since they'd been on the property. He was sure Tee and Dr. Staunton had talked at length, but he hadn't been present for much of it. Still, there had to be some rhyme and reason to how the facility was setup. An idea struck him. Dr. Staunton had told them the facility was “basically a research facility” and that phase two had seen the addition of research assistants and lab technicians. Labs. That’s where the activity in the facility would be centered.

  He stood from the chair and rounded the desk, scooping up the blueprints and flipping to the top page. He flattened the documents out on the desk and looked at the overhead layout of the entire property. Each of the buildings had a number associated with it, but only a few of them had a label indicating a purpose. He assumed that anything without a label was one of the abandoned and burned out buildings. That left three choices: a large building labeled main, a singular building labeled chapel, and a cluster of four buildings labeled laboratory. He studied the laboratory buildings and traced their location with his finger. They were separated from the main property by at least an acre and judging from the topography on the diagram, were located down hill and out of sight of the main building. There was nothing detailing which of the four buildings did what and where any supplies might be stored, but they were close enough together that it hopefully wouldn't matter.

  He picked up his rifle and moved to the door, stopping to listen for any movement in the hallway. There was none. He positioned the rifle at low ready and pulled on the door. With a powerful thrust that he instantly knew was man made, the door opened into him, knocking him backwards.

  “Boom sucker.”

  He moved to raise the rifle.

  “Don't.”

  He froze as the two gang members he'd last seen standing with Reverend Nine outside the gates entered, pointing semi-automatic pistols.

  “My how the mighty have fallen,” a voice said from the hallway. Jacob watched as Reverend Nine leaned around the doorway and looked in before entering, a silver ball-topped cane in his hands and his black fedora pulled low on his brow. “Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

  “If there's a haughty spirit around here, reverend, I'm pretty sure it's you.”

  Nine lifted his head so that he could make eye contact without removing his hat. “Kill him.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Jacob pulled the trigger on the rifle as he dove for cover. The last thing he saw before falling behind the particleboard desk was a flash of black as Reverend Nine fled the room, his black overcoat trailing him through the door. He landed on the gray commercial carpeting, continuing to pull the trigger at a rapid pace. The gang members moved in separate directions, returning fire and attempting to find cover. Jacob rolled under the desk and fired between his legs at the feet of one of the men. He fired again as the man fell, striking him in the midsection. Splinters of laminated wood rained down on the floor next to him as the other man fired into the top of the desk. Jacob moved the rifle so that the barrel was past his head, but the stock was lying across his chest. It wasn't a proper position, but it was all he could do. He pulled the trigger as he moved his head to see where the thug was located. Wide holes opened in the drywall and baseboard and the thug danced away, moving back toward the door. Jacob followed him with the rifle, continuing to fire until the man fled the room.

  He watched the door as he took note of any injuries. Had he been shot? No. He'd been lucky again—or was it blessed? He'd take it either way. He looked at the downed thug. The man wasn't moving and didn't appear to be breathing, but he kept an eye on him as he rolled out from under the desk and kicked it over. Surprisingly, it held together as it flipped into a position that would provide him better cover. He got to his knees and placed his rifle on the edge of the desk as he watched the door. It was the only entrance to the room, so if Nine wanted him, he'd have to come and get him.

  A gunshot sounded and a hole appeared in the drywall. The other thug was in the hallway firing through the walls. Jacob returned fire, stopping the thug's attack and making a line of wide holes across the inner wall before releasing his magazine. He drew another from the tac vest and watched the door intently as he placed the magazine in and charged the rifle.

  The lights flickered out, but not like a switch had been flipped—like a line had been cut. The sound of the air conditioning halting brought an eerie stillness to the room and the hallway beyond. Had they really cut the connection between the facility and the solar farm? Were they insane? This had to be the only facility with electricity for hundreds of miles and Nine's people were destroying it. Their actions lacked any sense, but given their willingness to follow the lead of a madman, Jacob couldn't say he was surprised. He'd seen the same mentality in the people who looted and burned stores and infrastructure during the H16N1 pandemic, and he had no doubt that many of the same people were active in other places around the city. Things would get far worse before they ever got better.

  He adjusted his grip on the rifle and raised himself into a low crouch, moving gradually away from the desk to get a better view of the hallway. As far as he could tell, the thug had moved a good distance away from the door, but Jacob was sure he hadn't gone far. And neither had Reverend Nine. In all likelihood, they were each positioned at opposite ends of the hallway waiting for him to come out, effectively cutting him off from any escape routes. What should he do? He couldn't stay there. He had to find a way out. Somehow.

  He spotted the blueprints on the floor, wide holes in them where the thugs had tried to shoot through the desk. Keeping his eyes on the door, he checked the downed thug for any signs of life and took his pistol before leaning over and picking up the blueprints. He took a risk and set down the rifle, using both his hands to turn the blueprints to the fourth floor before setting them down flat in front of him and picking up the rifle again. Moving his eyes between the doorway and the drawings, he studied the fourth floor. There was only one way out of the room he was in and that was the door and hallway in front of him, which he was certain were being covered.

  He pushed the blueprints aside and looked at what he had to work with. The holes in the walls from the gunfire reminded him that this part of the building had likely been constructed much later than the rest of the facility and that he'd been able to shoot his way in. Could he also shoot his way out? If the holes in the walls were any evidence, yes. But where did the walls behind him lead? He pulled the blueprints back over and looked. It was hard to tell for sure, but it looked like he'd have to jump back to the second-floor roof, as the third-floor roof ended near the doorway down the hall where he'd entered. Could he make the jump and still manage to defend himself from an attack if Reverend Nine or the gang banger in the hallway realized what he was doing and responded? He looked over the gear packed in or on the tac vest. The two-frag grenades caught his eye followed by the smoke grenade. That was it. That was his ticket. Hopefully. The hallway was narrow and would easily fill entirely with smoke once the grenade was activated. Then he'd wait for a response and use the frag grenades before opening fire on the wall and making his jump. It wasn't a great plan, but it looked like the best option he had, considering the situation.

  He pulled the smoke grenade out of the tac vest pocket, pulled the pin, and held the spoon in place as he moved cautiously to the doorway, keeping an eye on the hallway through the holes in the wall in case anyone appeared. A few feet from the door, he aimed the smoke grenade away from his body and released the spoon. The thin piece of metal popped into the air and the bottom of the grenade opened, spewing a rapidly widening stream of thick, red smoke into the hallway. He tossed the grenade out, raised his rifle, and backed away, watching it roll into the hall.

  “Shi—what the?” the gang banger yelled.

  Within seconds, the hallway was filled from floor to ceiling and the grenade hadn't even stopped smoking. Jacob secured his rifle and took one of the frag grenades out. But the sound of the rooftop door opening changed his plan. The thug guarding the end of the hall had exited onto the roof to get away from the smoke. What did he do now? If he tried to shoot through the drywall as he planned, the thug would hear him and be in a position to shoot when he exited. He stowed the frag grenade and raised his rifle. There was only one option.

  He flipped the selector switch to automatic, took a deep breath, and rushed into the hall, running toward the rooftop door. Unable to see where he was going because of the hot smoke stinging his eyes, he bumped into the wall a few times but maintained a mostly forward momentum. He thought back to what the roof had looked like. If his mental image was correct, he'd find the gang banger on his right as he exited the building. That was the most open spot and would be the best place to get away from the smoke that was likely streaming out the door. Judging by the way the smoke was descending from the ceiling, he guessed he was near the exit. His lungs tightened as he struggled to continue holding his breath. He didn't have long. He felt his way along the wall until the hallway ended and then turned, moving straight forward to where he thought the door was. He collided with the wall but felt the opened door next to him. He adjusted course and exited, aiming his rifle and moving to his right. He cleared the smoke and exhaled, seeing exactly what he expected—the gang banger ahead of him and turning to face him.

  Jacob pulled the trigger and a burst of gunfire sounded. Bullets riddled the man in front of him, causing his body to jerk violently as he fell to the floor of the roof. The gunfire stopped, but Jacob was still holding the trigger. He released it and tapped the bottom of the magazine with his opened palm before pulling on the operating rod to clear the jam. But there was no effect. He lowered the rifle and moved away, breathing heavily and squinting away tears.

  Resting against the wall a safe distance from the doorway and the clearing smoke, he removed the magazine and pulled the operating rod again, tapping the rifle against his knee to dislodge the misfired round. A single round fell out. The weapon had double fed. That was a problem with the M4 and AR-15 style rifles and was the reason he preferred the Kalashnikov style, though they were harder to get used to. He reinserted the magazine and pulled the rod to chamber a round.

  “Ugh-hah! Hah!”

  Jacob dropped to one knee and aimed the rifle as Reverend Nine appeared from inside the building, coughing and trying to breathe. He kept the reverend in his sights but didn't fire. There had been enough killing and the man wasn't a threat at the moment. Jacob stood and backed away, still squinting away saline.

  “I see you!” Nine said. “This isn't over—it's not over!” His breath came in huge gasps and he sank to his knees, continuing to cough. If he'd been positioned near the bank of elevators, then he'd had a lot further to go to the exit than Jacob had—probably double the distance. It would take him several minutes to recover by which time, Jacob hoped to be at least halfway to the laboratory.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Jacob landed on the second-floor roof, absorbing the impact as best he could but ending up in a heap—still feeling the exhausting effects of having held his breath for so long. He looked up to be sure he hadn't misjudged Reverend Nine's recuperation time. He was alone. He got to his feet and moved out, keeping his rifle at low ready as he made his way around to the access ladder near the loading docks. He slowed as he approached. The lot was empty. The soldiers were gone.

  He kept low, shielding himself from view with the edge of the roof a few feet away from the ladder as he looked out over the parts of the property visible to him. The protestors appeared to have gone as well. A few fires burned in the bottom floors of the abandoned buildings and the two Humvees left by the soldiers had been lifted and overturned. In the loading area, pallets and boxes that had been stacked along the fence had been pulled down and thrown about, a sure sign that the protestors had made their way inside once the soldiers had gone but had found little of interest.

  Where would the soldiers go? Would they try for Amsterdam? If Abernathy was with them when they left, he knew the way, but how would they be received when they showed up without Dr. Tee, himself, or any of the medical supplies they'd come for? And what had happened to Flanary? The last time Jacob remembered seeing him was when he'd volunteered to help fix the gate at the rear entrance. Hopefully he'd been with the soldiers and would help guide them back to Amsterdam because Jacob didn't have time to look for him. He climbed onto the ladder and made his way down, keeping his eyes on the area below him to be sure no one was hiding nearby.

  Jumping past the last few rungs, he landed on his feet and swept the rifle around. There was no one. He stayed close to the wall and moved toward the gate, which was now standing open. At the end of the concrete block wall that partially enclosed the loading area and the beginning of the chain link fence that provided the entrance, he stopped and surveyed the area in front of him again. There were two parking lots and at least three grass and shrub filled median strips between him and the sharp decline in the land where the laboratory was located. He plotted a route that would allow him to take cover among the shrubbery several times and left the loading area.

 

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