Nightmare Factory, page 15
“No signs of activity last night, Prowler,” her internal voice whispered inside my head.
I remained silent, activated magnification, infra-red, then full spectrum sweeps of the room. The thing was still there but didn’t show up as anything on any of the scans. Still, it was there. Fear began creeping into my brain, the fear of an eight-year-old me who was afraid to look under the bed. I wanted to raise up and get a better view, but somehow, I instinctually knew that would be bad. Where was Sumo? I didn’t hear his normal breathing. The fingers on my right hand crept to my sidearm, which I had placed on the floor next to me before going to sleep.
My fingers quietly found it and moved over the grip; the cold composite alloy felt comfortable in my hand. I heard movement to one side and turned just enough to see a shape that had to be Sumo. It was impossible to make out any detail, but in my head, he was looking at the same spot on the ceiling. Did he see it, too?
This is getting ridiculous, I thought as I slowly looked back up just in time to see… something. Movement, a reflection or… shit! The thing up there was alive, whatever the fuck it was. I jerked the pistol up, thumbed the safety off and rolled to one side, then came up in firing position.
The shadow didn’t move. It also didn’t exist, not anymore. “What in the fuck?”
“Are you okay, Joe?” Ada asked.
Which was the machine’s polite way of saying ‘Are you nuts?’ ‘Screwed in the head?’ ‘Imagining things?’
“Sumo, guard,” I whispered. I had a tactical light in my bag but turning that on would do more harm than good. Along with ruining my eyes’ natural night vision, I would let anyone in the surrounding area know exactly where I was. Somehow, I also knew it would be pointless. Whatever I thought had been there was gone.
The fog in my head began to clear, and I had to face the fact that it could have been nothing. Probably was nothing, but that wasn’t what bothered me. What was really freaking me out was my own panic. Lying on that floor, I had been scared shitless. What in the fuck could make me feel that way? I didn’t like it. It made me angry, and angry soldiers are stupid soldiers. I forcibly slowed my breathing and waited while my pulse rate subsided.
Sumo’s soft footfalls sounded as he circled the open room, then made for the exit door and down the stairs. I followed his beacon in my overlay just to be sure he didn’t run into trouble. I began donning my gear; it was time to get this day started. So far, I wasn’t overly enthused at what it would hold.
I massaged my neck and tried again to shake off the fog of sleep. Ada had assured me she would have detected any life forms in the immediate area, but again, she mostly used my senses, even when I was asleep. This had limits, as did the dog’s. “This place is creeping me out,” I said to no one. At this point, I just wanted to get my shit and get out. The drugs that would keep me alive were the only compelling reason to spend one more second in this place.
“Ada what’s going on with Bayou?”
My AI had been struggling to get any useful information from the team. She had assessed Debra’s telemetry and determined she was not in immediate medical distress. The injuries she sustained could be remedied quickly at any fleet medical center, but she had also lost Darko and possibly…shit, probably a sister. I knew how emotionally damaging that would be.
“We may have a way to get them out, Joe. I’ve located possible transport but need help getting clearance.”
I smiled, “So you messaged my dad, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s’ good, just please make it happen. They are the priority.”
Sumo and I shared a couple of heated breakfast MREs. Activating the small chem pack on the bottom warmed the contents thoroughly and brought a sense of normal back to my world. I watched the neighboring building through the open window while I shoveled food into my face. The food was good; soldiers used to always complain about field rations, but no longer. Technology involving biological manufacturing had progressed to where manufactured shelf-stable foods were delicious. Even the ones developed for space-borne missions were exceptional.
The dog finished his and sat there looking at me. “Stop it,” I said. “This one is mine. You ate yours.” He raised a paw and put it on my leg. Apparently not getting the reaction he wanted, he buried his head into my side and began snorting and wallowing his way into my lap. I held the tray up and continued to eat. “Do you have no shame?”
Sumo rolled over and looked at me with a look of total helplessness. He has none, no. I gave in and set the rest of my meal down and let him quickly devour the leftovers. Yeah, I know you shouldn’t feed dogs leftovers. Bite me! It’s the end of the world.
The first glimmers of daylight were just showing as we made our way back out. I moved around the area collecting the external sensors I’d set, then approached the building that had caused both Sumo and me so much concern yesterday. I noticed a faint dusting of purplish powder on each of the doors. Running a finger over the building’s exterior left a mark of the same color. I rubbed it between my gloved fingers, wondering what it meant.
“You ready for this?” I whispered to Sumo as I reflexively checked my MK4, then felt the hilt of my main combat blade. The Heilberg Damascus, steel six-inch blade that had saved me more times than I could count. Sumo took up position on the right side of the door and I on the left.
Even in the early morning light, I could see his muscular body lacked the tension and concern from yesterday. I, too, no longer felt the same level of threat. That did not mean either of us thought the place was safe. Tactical lights and full sensor sweep on entry, I sub-vocally communicated to my AI. My hand on the door handle, I nodded to Sumo who crouched low like a spring ready to uncoil itself at whatever lay beyond the entrance.
Silently, I brought the handle down into the release position. I’d seen no locks on the door, but that meant nothing. Throwing the door open, Sumo charged in, as did I, both moving in opposite directions with movements honed over the past year of working and training together.
A scream cut through the open space, the amplified sound turning my blood to ice before my helmet’s filters dimmed it. My rail lights danced around the space we were in picking up nothing unusual.
“The sound was from outside, Prowler.”
“Pattern match,” I whispered, still searching for dangers.
“Unknown. No matches within the known catalog of any animal,” Ada responded quietly.
The room was large, but certainly not the entire building. I guessed it at fifty by maybe a little over a hundred. Sumo was now in the far-right corner near what looked to be an office. I was against the opposite wall, which held several computer workstations, all dark. Other than the lack of significant damage, the interior of this building mirrored most of the others in the complex. Several doors led out of the room, all at the back. I signaled Sumo, who was clearing a second office, and we met on the back wall. Something… someone had been here yesterday.
“Threats?” I asked, knowing Ada would have alerted me to anything on her sensor array.
“Negative threats.”
The scream came again from outside, farther away this time. Yeah, the threats were here, just not in this room. What in the hell was this place? I pulled open the first of the doors. It was a washroom, sink, toilet, normal stuff. The next one had a small sign with a symbol representing stairs. This door was locked. We moved to the final one as I chided myself for not leaving sensors outside. That was where the threat seemed to be now. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face, leaving a cold trail of wetness.
We were being hunted or stalked. I wasn’t sure, but increasingly, I felt whatever we were up against was no longer contained inside these walls. I motioned for Sumo and said, “Hunt,” as I threw open the last door. He and I both moved with speed through the short corridor beyond, actively clearing as much of the building as quickly as possible. This was something only a multiple-man team would normally attempt, but I trusted my partner, and we were good. I moved into darkened rooms one after the other. In two of them, I found bodies. No obvious cause of death. Ada recorded their names from the ID badges. I knew she would also get fingerprint scans and retinals as well, as I raised a cold eyelid on the lifeless face of a once very attractive woman. Most of this was routine. We’d raided a lot of labs on missions, and you never knew what intel you might need later.
Sumo barked from farther back in the building. I was already moving that way. Sumo is a combat dog and has a range of barks. Over time, both Ada and I have learned to interpret many of them. This one clearly meant, ‘I found something, but no immediate threat.’
Seconds later, as I looked over the blood-soaked pile of debris Sumo had found, I wasn’t so sure. The debris was flesh and bone. One finger still wore a wedding band. A trail of tiny red dots moved away and into a hole in the wall. My finger smeared one of the dots. It was blood.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
We’d found three more bodies within the hour, all mangled just like the first. The bite pattern didn’t match normal predation according to Ada. She’d analyzed the arterial spray that painted the surrounding floor, the position of the bodies, and what appeared to be defensive wounds when they were fighting off, well…whatever it was.
“So, these people were alive when it attacked? They didn’t die in the blast?”
“Yes, Joe.”
I looked down into what remained of the ruined face of an older, olive-skinned man. According to the badge still attached to a remnant of lab coat nearby, he’d been a scientist, a doctor in fact.
“Why were the other corpses not…not …like this?” I finally said. “Why were they not eaten?”
“These victims were not eaten, Joe, simply attacked. Viciously so, but like I said, not for predation.”
“And the others,” I began. “They were already…”
“Yes, dead. They posed no threat, or maybe no challenge to whatever did this.”
“So, this thing only kills the living. Kills but doesn’t feed.”
“Don’t think you can kill the unliving, Joe.”
I had a butt load of zombie movie references to prove her wrong, but I kept quiet.
* * *
“This is a DARPA site, Joe. As far as I can tell, advanced weapons development for the Alliance.”
“A biological weapon,” I whispered. This reminded me of some of the stories my dad told about what they fought near the end of the last war. Still, I’d never seen anything do damage like this. Some cuts were precise and neat, almost surgical. Others were ragged and torn.
Sumo and I cleared the rest of the building, even forcing open the door to upstairs, where we’d found row after row of smaller labs. Some were obviously surgical suites, others held giant medical machines whose purpose neither I nor Ada could guess. One entire side held racks of advanced computer servers. The roof had been peeled back there, probably by the bombs. I tied in one of my p-cells for power for the servers, but Ada said all the storage chips were melted slag.
Half the morning was gone and still no med pack for me. Nothing but dead bodies, invisible monsters, and even more questions. Dying prematurely from organ failure was no longer the most pressing threat I faced. The monsters were out there… whatever they were. This was indeed a new world. We would never be the same again.
“Joe, I’m picking up a signal.”
“What kind?” I asked.
“Net usage appears to be on the crypto bands.”
“Banking?” I said curiously. That was interesting because machines didn’t need money. It indicated something human. All comms systems used the crypto internet bands for issuing payments now. The block chain security was still better than any of the more ancient financial systems.
“Someone attempting to make a purchase. The location is a little over four miles away. An automated food store.”
“It still has power?” That seemed unlikely, but maybe emergency backup was still working. The big guys, like Amazon, Tesco, and such, had the small reactor units to power theirs, but those were only in major metroplexes. Nothing like that would normally be out here in the Virginia hill country.
“Plot a course and bring the truck down,” I said. We had only investigated a fraction of the sprawling complex, but so far, I’d found no one alive. No one that could give me answers or point me toward what I needed. Anyone close by had to be associated with this place; there was no other reason to be here. Also, whatever had killed these scientists was out there, probably still hunting.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
The truck’s batteries were failing. I knew it was just a matter of time, but walking didn’t seem like fun, or practical, and I’d seen no other vehicles still operating in the last 300 miles.
“We’re going to need to turn west to get out of the devastation once we get my meds. Maybe then we can find fresh batteries or even another vehicle.” I’d been thinking an air car would be really nice to have. Being here on the ground with whatever had been in that lab was an increasingly unpleasant thought.
What in the hell had they created back there? Strangely, though, it was what haunted my imagination that scared me even more. I knew something had been watching us sleep, something that Ada and maybe even Sumo hadn’t noticed. That lab had lots of secrets, and now all of them had potentially gotten off the leash.
The level of destruction was less on the other side of the ridgeline. The little community beyond seemed largely untouched. The downed trees inside the blast zone blended into just down limbs, then leaves and scattered debris. Something told me there was damage here, too, though. Maybe not the same as the facility, but it wasn’t unscathed. The truck crunched over limbs and gravel covering the road. A few abandoned cars were stalled in places, but the roadway was passable, and radiation was near normal.
I saw nothing noteworthy except some long-abandoned barns and overgrown farmland until a small auto charging station came into view. All the hyper-charger connectors were still in the racks; the cheaper superchargers were all connected to cars. I slowed the truck and pulled to the edge of the road.
“Is this the place?”
Ada answered at once. “No, it is a half mile farther. This service station has no power nor Wi-Fi readings.”
I could tell she was right; the cars had been left right where they stopped. My assumption was one of the hypersonic blackout bombs must have gone off near enough to take down the local power grid. That would have killed the all-electric cars where they were. Apparently, something up here in these hills still had juice, though. And power was something I could use.
“Coming into view ahead, Joe. You may want to park before the bend ahead.”
“Copy that,” I said instinctually as I rolled the passenger side window down.
“Sumo.” The husky looked at me questioningly. I put a finger to my lips, pointed ahead, and then made a patting motion with my palm. He leapt silently from the window and began a stealthy recon of the area.
I donned my helmet, the bucket starting to smell a little ripe after so many days without being cleaned. The MK4 clicked into place on my back. I wasn’t expecting trouble, but that’s usually about the time it shows up. Making my way along the edge of the woods, I tracked Sumo’s sensors in my heads-up as he worked his way along the far side. Ada could also use sensors on the dog and his battle vest to detect heat signatures and could often make reasonably good assumptions based on his movements as to the likely threat level.
“No life signs present, Joe.”
I peered through the brush at a quaint food store. The kind just the right size for a community of a few hundred people. The interior had several flickering lights and one of the glass doors was smashed in. I saw Sumo’s head pop out of the wood line on the opposite side of the small parking lot. I signaled him to clear the building, still motioning my hand patting down. He knew what the non-lethal signal meant. Stay hidden, don’t assume these are the enemy, take down without serious injury if you must. Sumo’s training had been extensive, in many ways even more comprehensive than my own.
My boot crunched down on broken glass as I moved up against the wall. My old instructor would have made me run the fifteen-mile trail’s course in full battle kits had I done that back at Ranger school. Moving into the store, I dashed left, knowing Sumo would take right. The lighting was erratic. Most of the LED panels overhead were out. Still, I heard the hum of refrigeration units. It was surprising that no one was here, no workers, no locals. My anxiety inched up a degree as I thought about the creature that was out here somewhere. Maybe that was why no one was here.
Sumo cleared most of the store before I’d moved through even a third of it. I nodded, and he padded off to the door to stand watch.
“No one in here,” I said to my AI, who obviously knew that already. It felt like a combat mission, and I couldn’t help but revert to battle tactics. I was reporting in. Okay, I was talking to myself… whatever, it’s the end of the world. Have I made that clear yet? Yeah, the end— game over. Let’s all get a juice-box and let that sink in for a bit.
Moving up to one of the autopay checkouts, I saw a list of groceries that showed ‘Payment failed. Please try again.’ Canned food, bottled water, bleach, matches, and more. It was a good list of non-perishable supplies. Emergency supplies. Not a lot, but if someone were walking, they would have been limited to what they could carry. There was a personal ident key on the shopper. The store’s built in audit AI would have tracked everything the person put into their bags and probably already had them on file as a regular customer. Looked like the system worked as it was supposed to, except it was unable to automatically debit their payment method as they left. The Wi-Fi might be working, but the payment processors on the other end must not have been.
