EMERGENCE: Annihilation, Book 6 (The Emergence Series), page 11
Erica leaned between Sam and Kelly, pointing to the stationary towers in each corner of the airstrip. “Those must be the sonic devices I heard about on the ham radio a few weeks back. Supposed to fricking melt the freaks’ brains if they get too close.”
Kelly thought back to the legion of paras approaching from the north, knowing these feeble defenses couldn’t possibly prevent them from laying waste to this region. “Miller said this was only a temporary staging area—just set up two days ago when all these different units were ordered to retreat from their outposts.”
Erica looked at four soldiers in their snug tank-tops hoisting crates onto a truck. “Maybe I oughta think about enlisting.”
“That’s all it takes to get you hot and bothered?” said Mary, who was chuckling.
“It’s been like two months since I’ve seen another guy my age, and no offense, but living on a houseboat in the weeds with you ladies was an estrogen overload.” She waved at a mechanic in greasy coveralls walking past their slow-moving vehicle. “Mmm, delicious.” She covered Cassie’s ears while grinning. “If I disappear for a few minutes for a little tune-up, don’t worry about me.”
Kelly and Mary blurted out laughs while Sam shook his head. “Just make sure you remember where we’re parked,” said Kelly.
“Aye, aye, captain,” snickered Erica.
The jeep in front of them came to a halt before five canvas squad tents, each of them bustling with people coming and going from the entrances as officers barked out orders to personnel trotting towards the runway with their gear.
Miller ran up to their van as they hopped out. “I spoke with Major Kamien, and he indicated that we’ve got room on the eastbound C-130J that’s headed to the Gulf. There’ll be one brief fuel stop along the Texas coast, and it won’t be like flying on a 747, but it’ll get you out of harm’s way here.”
Kelly’s boot was twitching. “We are grateful to you all,” she said. “I’d like to talk to your major, if possible. There’s something I need to find out.”
The lance corporal nodded then motioned for them to follow him as he walked across the compacted desert ground. Kelly barely felt the intense sun on her face as they marched towards the command tent, filled with trepidation over the question that had been simmering in her heart for months. After leaving Cassie with Erica in the corner, Kelly and Mary were escorted to Major Kamien, who was briefing his eleven pilots on the flight plan. When he had finished, he introduced himself and motioned for the women to sit down beside a table that was covered with maps and logistical charts.
“Thank you, but I’d prefer to stand,” Kelly said.
“Sounds like you’ve had quite a go of it up north, living on the river for so long. Damn impressive, all of you holding out for so long. Glad you made it here in time. We’ve got a massive influx of paras that will be sweeping through this region by mid-afternoon—the equivalent of twelve divisions of soldiers by my estimates. We’ll be wheels up from here in ninety minutes, so you’ll excuse me if I seem in a rush.”
Kelly nodded, her lower lip quivering. “Sir, I must ask if there is any way to find out information about a member of the military.” She paused, her mouth becoming parched. “My husband, Thomas Ivins, he was with the SEALs attached to the U.S.S. Reagan in the Pacific. I last spoke to him two days after the pandemic began, and I just need to know…” She folded her arms, trying to breathe.
“Commander Tom Ivins with SEAL Team 3—he’s with Cent-Com, on board the Endurance in the Gulf. He’s spearheaded most of our major campaigns along the southeastern U.S. during the past two months.”
Kelly leaned a trembling hand on the table, cupping her mouth as her sides shuddered. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she felt like her legs were about to give out.
“He’s alive—my God, he’s alive.” She sobbed, her arms quivering as she leaned over, hugging Mary. Kelly felt a flood of uncertainty and dread melt away as the months of separation began to disappear. She felt as if her husband was standing in the room. She wanted to grab Cassie and soar across the Gulf right now. Instead, she took several deep breaths, standing straight while sliding her sleeve across her moist cheeks.
She moved closer to the major. “Is there any way you can get a message to him—tell him his wife and daughter are here—please?”
“Of course. I have to do a SITREP with central command in an hour. I’ll relay the good news, but he may be deployed again, so I can’t make any guarantees about being able to talk with him,” said Kamien.
She put both hands on the table, holding herself up as her elation washed over her. “Thank you, sir. My daughter and I are beyond grateful.”
Kelly turned around, staring at Cassie in the corner next to Erica. Her daughter locked eyes with her as Kelly ran towards her, scooping her up and pulling her in close as she began crying again.
“Why are you so sad, Mommy?”
She leaned back, staring into her daughter’s blue eyes. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve never been happier.”
Chapter 26
Cancun, Mexico
The road trip up the coast from the remote village took five hours, and Nick spent most of it poring over the map on his lap as Victor drove the F-250 truck. Behind them was Crixus, who took up two seats, along with Santiago, who appeared comatose, his eyes partially open. In the bed of the truck were nine alphas and a crate full of grenades along with three bound captives, two of whom were intended to provide nourishment over the next few hours.
The airport on the west side of the city looked like it had been struck by a hurricane, though none had made landfall in this region in years. The tipped-over shuttle buses and the array of deserted cars by the runway indicated the panic that had ensued during the beginning of the pandemic. Hours before departing the fishing village, Nick had summoned the thousands of creatures still lurking in this city, and their forms could be seen emerging from the streets and buildings like floodwater.
Nick sat in the driver’s side, barking out his directions to Victor. “After we locate a plane, you will head to the marina and procure a boat.” Nick pointed to a red X on the nautical map. “Take it to this small atoll north of the coast and wait for our arrival after dawn.” He thrust his chin back towards the bed of the truck and the captive humans while leaning in closer to Victor. “Fail in your duties and your daughter dies a slow death over many days in ways you can’t even imagine.”
Victor gripped the steering wheel tighter while chewing on his lower lip. “Si, si.”
Nick examined the area on the map around Cancun, then his eyes darted east towards Cuba. Roughly ninety miles from here. He studied the coastline at the northern end of the island, recalling the fueling depots dotting the shore that he had spotted on his sailboat before landing in Mexico days ago. That is the last place in the region for the U.S. fleet to refuel at. They will have to make a move in that direction now that my plans to overrun the Gulf States have come to fruition. He removed a red pen from the table and drew a question mark two hundred miles north of Cuba in the Gulf of Mexico. And the American fleet should be located here, from what Roland has indicated. He sat back, staring up at a lone cloud floating across the cobalt sky. Why won’t he let me have access to his alpha on board their ship? Is it Abby who has been living amongst them all this time? He is putting her at terrible risk if it is. If she is discovered, she will be killed—or worse, experimented on.
He gripped the edge of the armrest. Roland only thinks about his own power and needs, disguising it as helping the brood when he simply uses them to fuel his immediate interests. The greedy fool.
Nick glanced around the abandoned flight tower and hangars, examining the drones moving into view followed by a handful of alphas. They deserve better than that withered stick. He reflected on his horrendous childhood and the events leading up to his transformation and finally his arrival on these shores. Is that why I am here—to lead them forward?
Free from the mental shackles of his father’s harsh upbringing and religious indoctrination, and with his consciousness continuing to expand each day through the minds of a hundred thousand alphas, Nick felt like his life, his purpose, was being revealed before his eyes. He felt the ribbony parasite flutter in his cervical region as he contemplated his next move—one that didn’t involve Roland’s approval.
He thrust his finger towards the last flight hangar, which had several intact planes on the runway. “Those should do—just the right size and hopefully still operational.” Nick pivoted in his seat, staring at Santiago. “Your time to shine has come, amigo.”
Chapter 27
U.S. Coast Guard Cutter, Endurance
“I’ve been sifting through Professor Ramirez’s work, and you will find this fascinating.” Selene clicked on a video file that pulled up on the overhead screen in the intel office. It showed Ramirez and two of his medical assistants performing an autopsy on a small alpha male. The camera panned around the skull as Ramirez removed a circular section of the cranium, revealing a gelatinous mass of grayish-brown tissue that was filled with dead worms. Speaking in Spanish, Ramirez used a steel probe to point out the fluid leaking from the ears and nose, then he directed the cameraman to the enhanced image on his microscope, which showed a single alpha blood cell being penetrated by a red-bodied parasite.
Selene paused the video then tapped her fingers on the paper with her notes before her. She was silent, staring at her scribbling, then she pulled her shoulders back while her eyes widened. “I had the professor’s explanations translated. He said that the alpha, and many others like it in their travels up the Central American coast, perished from a deadly pathogen—a virus that has recently reached epidemic proportions in the tropics due to the increase in migratory birds during the winter coupled with an unusually high increase in the mosquito population.” She flung her hands in the air. “Ironic that a naturally occurring virus is killing a virus-mutated creature—though not all of them. Ramirez said that, based upon his studies, there appears to have been an 80% mortality rate of the alphas in that region during the past sixteen days of travel up the coast.”
Dorr and Runa gave each other sideways glances while the rest of the group whispered between themselves.
“What virus? Something else we have to worry about or just specific to the alphas?” said Dorr.
“We’ve already been dealing with this virus in the U.S. since the late 1990s, when the first outbreak occurred in New York.” She raised an eyebrow. “The initial reports of the virus happened in 1937 in the West Nile District of Uganda when a woman was infected. It didn’t rear its head again until 1999 in New York. The primary vector for West Nile Virus, or WNV, is through migratory birds, so the virus is now found throughout the entire world, with some slight variations.” She thrust her thumb up at the still video. “It appears to be lethal to the alphas, causing encephalitis and leading to brain death within days of receiving a mosquito bite. Ramirez surmised that the upsurge in WNV in recent weeks was probably due to the torrential rains that impacted the Central American tropics during the past month from hurricane season. This led to a significant increase in the mosquito population.”
She clicked on another image from Ramirez’s files, which showed a dispersal map. “All wild birds carry zoonotic pathogens, which is what Professor Ramirez specialized in. The birds serve as vectors for spreading arthropods or as reservoir hosts. In the case of West Nile Virus, they are the main amplifying hosts of that disease. The initial spread of WNV in the U.S. along the East Coast has always corresponded with significant bird migrations. The subsequent and alarmingly rapid movement of the virus inland was increased by the migration routes used by many songbirds coming out of Central America.”
She walked around the room, folding her arms. “According to the professor’s research, if 40% of the population of migratory birds residing in one of the Central American countries were hosts for West Nile Virus, that would be enough to provide dissemination of the virus along their travel corridors and at their North American nesting sites.”
“Fascinating, Doctor Munroe, but this is all data on a laptop so far. How does that translate to real-world applications?” said Dorr with his fists resting on the desk.
“According to what I’ve gleaned from Ramirez’s material, he indicated that areal dispersal of a small virus sample over the tropics during the window of the next three weeks would infect enough of the 300 species of migratory birds before they left their wintering grounds for North America.” She glanced at Dorr, Runa, and the other intel officers in the room while muffling her sigh. “The real challenge will be the dispersal mechanism. In his notes, he called for the use of either a low-flying plane similar to a crop-duster or a weather balloon accompanied by a wind-free day to allow for complete saturation of the bird population.”
“And then what?” said Dorr in a harsh tone. “We wait for a bunch of songbirds to spread the disease while we ride out our days at sea here?”
“It’s not a short-term solution by any means,” said Selene. “But if the mortality rate along the Central American coast has been this high amongst the alphas then this is worth pursuing. Even with the outbreak in New York in the nineties, which was extremely confined, it led to the spread of the virus to California within a year and places like Alaska several years later.” She tapped on her laptop, pulling up the slide of the red parasite breaching the alpha’s blood cell. “Nature has already worked out the alpha solution for us—we just need to augment her efforts.”
“Too bad this didn’t occur during the early weeks of the pandemic. It might have given us an edge with fewer alphas running around,” said Runa.
“The migratory birds that are now in the tropics were still on our shores in the U.S., and the mosquito population had died down by then, so timing just wasn’t on our side—yet,” said Selene.
Runa thrust his hands on his hips. “The part you’re not including is where the hell do we acquire a sufficient amount of West Nile Virus to make this all possible?”
She moved back to her laptop, pulling up an image of Latin America on the overhead screen. She zoomed in on Mexico City, isolating an eight-story research facility on the outskirts. “This is the nearest intact location for obtaining the virus—it’s Mexico’s equivalent of the CDC. They will also have the vaccine for WNV, so we can inoculate our personnel and make more for the civilian population to prevent the effects of that virus from spreading within our own population a year from now.”
“That city has to be swarming with millions of creatures, not to mention that that medical facility is going to be locked down like a presidential bunker,” said Dorr.
Andre Pacelle took a slight step forward, clearing his throat. “Leave that part to me.”
“Isn’t this going to be a regional solution? What about Europe and the rest of the world?” said Runa.
“West Nile Virus is present there, but it is primarily spread through birds emanating out of Africa, not Latin America,” said Selene. “So our remaining counterparts in Europe would have to recreate the same dispersal method there that Ramirez was proposing.”
“And within the next three weeks, you said,” replied Runa while shaking his head.
Selene nodded. “Yes, before the birds begin their migration pattern north and we lose that window of opportunity until next winter.”
“But won’t the existing bird population that currently serves as hosts be sufficient to spread the virus?” said Pacelle.
“That’s already been going on for the past twenty years. There have been a few thousand cases of West Nile Virus showing up in the U.S. every year, so it’s already endemic, but not on the scale that we need to afflict the alphas.”
Dorr paced around the table, flicking his eyes up at the map periodically. Next winter—I’m not even sure how we are going to make it through this winter. And what capabilities will the alphas have a year from now? He felt the pit in his stomach growing more cavernous. For that matter, what will be left of us by then?
Dorr stopped next to Selene while looking at Runa and the others. He bit his lower lip then reached past Selene towards her laptop and retrieved the image of Mexico, panning it out until it included the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean. He rubbed the back of his neck then stood straight up. “It’s a long-range gamble, but it looks like this is where all of our resources need to be directed next.” He glanced at Selene. “Doctor Munroe, I’d like you to remain here on the Lachesis and head up the scientific team for this undertaking. Doctor Tso and his staff will stay in Nassau, continuing their work on the bioagent for the drones. With the bioagent and this new proposal, we may have the tools in our reach to strike a critical blow against the paras on a much larger scale than we can possibly accomplish with low-intensity conflicts with our strike teams.”
Dorr tried to keep a steely exterior but knew that massive chinks in his armor were forming over the old fissures he’d already tried to keep at bay. He unfurled his white knuckles then pointed to the overhead map. “In the meantime, I will move the Endurance and the Lachesis south towards Cuba, which will put us closer to the Mexican mainland. The remainder of the civilian elements of the fleet along with the president’s ship will remain here in the Gulf. Commander Ivins has also located a sufficient stockpile of fuel barges in the Cuban ports, which should serve the needs of the fleet for the next six months at least. He and his team are currently heading west to secure one last fuel tanker near Corpus Christi that will provide for our civilian food ships here.”
Selene tried to contain her excitement at not having to leave for Nassau. She glanced over at Reisner, who possessed the same enthusiasm on his face. She cleared her throat, averting her eyes, and gave Dorr a firm nod.
Dorr was the first to head for the exit, muttering over his shoulder before departing, “Thank you, that will be all. Return to your posts.” Normally, he would have applauded the efforts of Doctor Munroe at revealing such potentially strategic data, but he had no salutations left to give. This was just another briefing in his mind—one laced with a glint of hope but woven more with uncertainty and sacrifice than any outcome of victory. Another mission meant more lives lost and more resources squandered. He envisioned a time in the future when their ships were abandoned and they were forced like pioneers to hack out a life in some obliterated city, and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone looking to him then for answers or a morale-boosting speech. What will be left for any of us in the years ahead even if we survive against these creatures? As he exited the room behind the staff, he only thought of how parched his throat was and of the remedy lying dormant in a half-empty bottle in his berth.
