along the tiled floor outside the door.
He thrust his index finger down the
stairwell and the three deftly sprinted down the cement steps, taking up
positions behind a row of water-storage containers. Shane pulled out his laptop
and scanned the thermal images in the area. He could see the Secret Service
group still at their location and then glanced at the other dwindling clusters
of survivors. Shit, there were eleven other groups earlier and now there are
only five. These things are systematically devouring everything in their path. That
one group is still alive next door in the mortuary sciences room though — but
for how long?
He closed the screen and inserted the
laptop in his backpack, then motioned to his men to continue moving forward.
They floated down the corridor, and after several turns and another half-flight
of stairs, arrived at the tunnel entrance by the elevator service doors. Matias
used bolt cutters and removed the padlock. They climbed inside and made their
way through the murky passageway for another two hundred meters.
Rounding the corner, Shane could make
out six figures crouched beside a vent outlet, most of them appearing to be
asleep. One was standing guard with a rifle while the familiar shape of a woman
was resting a few feet away.
Shane removed his NVGs and took out a
flashlight. He flashed two patterns of three flashes. “Carlie, is that you?”
Shane whispered into the darkness, hoping it was indeed Carlie who would be on
the receiving end. “Carlie Simmons—–can you hear me? It’s Shane Colter with the
DEA. Do you copy?”
Chapter 25
“It’s starting to warm up in here,” said
Jared, who had unbuttoned his shirt while looking over at Amy, who was standing
nearby, sipping from a water bottle. She had just come from checking on the
other students, who were strung out around the large room.
“Yeah, welcome to the Southwest—where
life in the summer is only possible through air-conditioning,” Amy said.
“You grow up here or are you a transplant
like everyone else I meet?”
“I grew up in Williams, a small town
west of Flagstaff. Tucson is as big a city as I ever want to live in but it has
an awesome emergency medicine program, which is what brought me here.”
Jared let out a half-smile. “Scraping
street drunks off the pavement and being their taxi service to the hospital every
night doesn’t sound like my idea of fun, no matter how much it pays.”
She stopped sipping and scowled at him.
“What is it that you said you do for a living?”
“Oh, I’m self-employed. I come up with
investment solutions for people who have significant holdings and wouldn’t mind
seeing them go to better use.”
“So, you’re an economic advisor?” said
Amy, whose hands were clasped tightly around the water bottle.
“More of a personal finance specialist—I
bring many decades of field experience from wealthy patrons around the U.S.,”
he said, running his tongue over his front teeth. “It’s a rewarding and lively
field,” Jared said, barely recalling the canned speech he had recited so many
times over the years to women of Amy’s age.
Jared heard some heavy breathing to his
left and saw Bird Beak, a rotund man with a sweaty bald head, dozing off. Jared
leaned over towards Amy and whispered in his coy southern accent, “You gotta
wonder how a basted pork chop like that made it out of the clutches of those
things up above. I mean, some people just pop into this world bein’ lucky
bastards.”
“With all that’s happened today, you can
smugly sit back and just mock people? I’ve been standing here sipping my water
for maybe three minutes and I’m already questioning my decision to open the
door and let you in.”
Jared chuckled and stood up. “Ah, but what
happened to that caregiver’s oath of yours? Besides, with my pistolas, I’m the
best bet you have of getting out of here. You know you made the right
decision.”
“That’s the only thing about today
He thrust his index finger down the
stairwell and the three deftly sprinted down the cement steps, taking up
positions behind a row of water-storage containers. Shane pulled out his laptop
and scanned the thermal images in the area. He could see the Secret Service
group still at their location and then glanced at the other dwindling clusters
of survivors. Shit, there were eleven other groups earlier and now there are
only five. These things are systematically devouring everything in their path. That
one group is still alive next door in the mortuary sciences room though — but
for how long?
He closed the screen and inserted the
laptop in his backpack, then motioned to his men to continue moving forward.
They floated down the corridor, and after several turns and another half-flight
of stairs, arrived at the tunnel entrance by the elevator service doors. Matias
used bolt cutters and removed the padlock. They climbed inside and made their
way through the murky passageway for another two hundred meters.
Rounding the corner, Shane could make
out six figures crouched beside a vent outlet, most of them appearing to be
asleep. One was standing guard with a rifle while the familiar shape of a woman
was resting a few feet away.
Shane removed his NVGs and took out a
flashlight. He flashed two patterns of three flashes. “Carlie, is that you?”
Shane whispered into the darkness, hoping it was indeed Carlie who would be on
the receiving end. “Carlie Simmons—–can you hear me? It’s Shane Colter with the
DEA. Do you copy?”
Chapter 25
“It’s starting to warm up in here,” said
Jared, who had unbuttoned his shirt while looking over at Amy, who was standing
nearby, sipping from a water bottle. She had just come from checking on the
other students, who were strung out around the large room.
“Yeah, welcome to the Southwest—where
life in the summer is only possible through air-conditioning,” Amy said.
“You grow up here or are you a transplant
like everyone else I meet?”
“I grew up in Williams, a small town
west of Flagstaff. Tucson is as big a city as I ever want to live in but it has
an awesome emergency medicine program, which is what brought me here.”
Jared let out a half-smile. “Scraping
street drunks off the pavement and being their taxi service to the hospital every
night doesn’t sound like my idea of fun, no matter how much it pays.”
She stopped sipping and scowled at him.
“What is it that you said you do for a living?”
“Oh, I’m self-employed. I come up with
investment solutions for people who have significant holdings and wouldn’t mind
seeing them go to better use.”
“So, you’re an economic advisor?” said
Amy, whose hands were clasped tightly around the water bottle.
“More of a personal finance specialist—I
bring many decades of field experience from wealthy patrons around the U.S.,”
he said, running his tongue over his front teeth. “It’s a rewarding and lively
field,” Jared said, barely recalling the canned speech he had recited so many
times over the years to women of Amy’s age.
Jared heard some heavy breathing to his
left and saw Bird Beak, a rotund man with a sweaty bald head, dozing off. Jared
leaned over towards Amy and whispered in his coy southern accent, “You gotta
wonder how a basted pork chop like that made it out of the clutches of those
things up above. I mean, some people just pop into this world bein’ lucky
bastards.”
“With all that’s happened today, you can
smugly sit back and just mock people? I’ve been standing here sipping my water
for maybe three minutes and I’m already questioning my decision to open the
door and let you in.”
Jared chuckled and stood up. “Ah, but what
happened to that caregiver’s oath of yours? Besides, with my pistolas, I’m the
best bet you have of getting out of here. You know you made the right
decision.”
“That’s the only thing about today
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