Extinction End

Book 5: The Extinction Cycle

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Genres: Post-Apocalyptic sci-fi; Military Sci-Fi

Synopsis

Hope rises in the hearts of those still left standing, but safety seems to be just an illusion. In a single night of shattering terror, Plum Island is destroyed, and key scientist Dr. Kate Lovato is abducted.

The end has arrived …

Almost seven weeks have passed since the Hemorrhage Virus ravaged the world. The remnants of the United States military have regrouped and relocated Central Command to the George Washington Carrier Strike Group. It’s here, in the North Atlantic, that President Jan Ringgold and Vice President George Johnson prepare to deploy a new bioweapon and embark on the final mission to take back the country from the Variants.

With his home gone and his friends kidnapped, Master Sergeant Reed Beckham and his remaining men must take drastic measures to save what’s left of the human race. But not everyone at Central Command has the same plan for victory. As the Variants continue to evolve, only a handful of heroes stand between the creatures and mankind’s total extinction.

One way or another, the battle for the United States of America ends here.

Release date: February 14, 2017

Publisher: Orbit

Print pages: 320

Sample

Sheets of rain poured down, half blinding Doctor Kate Lovato as she stared up into the swollen, dark sky. A clap of thunder echoed through the derelict city streets. In the respite from the noise came the squawks of starving Variants and the screams of their human prisoners.

It took Kate a moment to remember she was one of those prisoners.

All around her, she saw the distorted, skeletal shapes of Variants. They clambered over abandoned vehicles and skittered up the walls of nearby buildings. Snapping joints clicked and popped as the monsters lugged their prey through the dark streets.

At first Kate didn’t even recognize her own wailing voice. She felt disconnected from everything, as if she wasn’t even there. She couldn’t feel much besides her irregular heartbeat and the cold rain pattering against her clammy skin.

As Kate struggled to focus, everything came collapsing down around her. After all she had been through, it was now, as she was being carried through the ash-covered streets of New York City on the back of a Variant, that she finally lost her sanity. Memories flooded her mind from the attack on Plum Island just hours before. She’d lost a piece of her soul when Staff Sergeant Alex Riley had been killed by the gargantuan beast covered in bone-plated armor.

Everything seemed so surreal, and as she slipped deeper into shock, the city, the Variants, and the other prisoners around her became more and more distant.

It was the screams of Tasha and Jenny that yanked Kate back to reality.

“Daddy!” Jenny shrieked.

“Tasha! Jenny!” Kate yelled back. Staff Sergeant Parker Horn’s girls were back there. Kate couldn’t see them, but when she twisted around, she saw Meg Pratt. The firefighter was to Kate’s right; a pair of male Variants with long limbs and hunched backs dragged her through the streets by her injured legs. Meg was still fighting—squirming and swatting at her captors, screaming, “You killed Riley! You killed Riley!”

Kate was reaching over to her when she heard Jenny wail for her sister.

“Tasha! Tasha!”

The cries broke Kate’s heart. Upside down, she raised her head to scan the darkness for Horn’s girls, gasping in air that smelled of sour lemons and rotting fruit. The monster carrying her bled the wretched scent. She held her breath and looked to the skyline.

Reed, where are you?

Even now, when all seemed lost, her thoughts gravitated to the father of her unborn child. The Delta Force operator had saved her so many times before. And while she knew he was out there fighting his way to New York, the chances of him arriving in time …

Kate’s thoughts drifted to the other people Reed hadn’t been able to save. Riley was gone. They’d lost Fitz and Apollo. It was just a matter of time before she and the other prisoners were killed too.

The click-clack of snapping maws and the screeches of the monsters rose as the small army worked its way deeper into Manhattan. They’d been on the move for what felt like hours, but Kate wasn’t sure what time it was. It could be the middle of the night or nearing sunrise. She shifted in and out of reality, lost in memories.

In order to kill a monster, you’ll have to create one.

Doctor Michael Allen’s final words echoed in her thoughts. In her mind’s eye, she watched her mentor and boss sacrificing himself by jumping out of the Black Hawk onto the lawn outside CDC as Variants closed in from all directions.

Kate’s eyes snapped open to see the moon peeking through the clouds drifting over Manhattan. Its rays carpeted the streets, and Kate finally glimpsed Tasha and Jenny for a fleeting moment before the clouds swallowed the glow. The girls were both slung over the back of the same beast. It sniffed at their tiny legs with a nose frayed down the middle, flesh hanging loosely to both sides. A pointed tongue shot out of the monster’s wormy lips, circled, then licked Tasha’s right leg.

Kate reared back in disgust. She had to do something. She wouldn’t let this abomination kill the girls.

“Let me down!” she yelled, pounding the lower back of the beast that carried her in a fit of rage. The creature howled and tightened a talon around her ankle, slicing into her flesh.

Kate bit back a scream of agony. She needed a plan—a way out of this. There had to be a way to escape. She looked back to Meg. The monsters had pulled her onto the sidewalk, but she was still fighting. At last Meg kicked one of the beasts in the face and managed to crawl away. Her fingernails dragged across the concrete as the second Variant reached out with a skeletal arm and grabbed her feet.

“No! No!” Meg screamed.

A high-pitched wail from the monster carrying Kate answered Meg’s shouts. It was then Kate realized she was still pounding the beast with her fists. Meg wasn’t the only one fighting.

Thunder cracked like a bomb exploding in the clouds. Kate paused her futile assault to look skyward, her gaze flitting up the sides of dark buildings. The towers extended to the heavens—and there, in the meat of the bulbous clouds, soared a winged creature.

An angel watching over them.

Kate was hallucinating. The shock was too much. She couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t—

“Help me!” Tasha shouted.

“Let them go!” Meg screamed.

Kate kneed the Variant holding her in the throat. The impact caught the beast off guard. It swung her to the side, loosening its grip around her ankles. She reached out to brace herself with her right hand and covered her stomach with her left as she plummeted to the concrete.

The fall happened in slow motion, the ash and ground slowly rising toward her. She landed on her right palm and rolled to her back. She was kicking as soon as she was on the ground.

“No!” she shouted. “Leave us alone!” She knew how insane the words sounded. The Variants couldn’t reason. They wouldn’t show mercy to her or anyone else. They were designed to kill—designed to feed. And her bioweapon had only made them stronger.

The beast perched in front of her. Rain pattered on its bald skull as it tilted its misshapen head from side to side. It blinked, thick eyelids closing over yellow eyes. Kate scooted backward across the concrete, prompting the creature to slash at her with one hand as it grabbed at her feet with the other. Talons scraped her shoes just as the beast carrying Tasha and Jenny lumbered by, tongue swaying from its mouth like the thumping tail of a dog.

A rattling sound pulled Kate’s gaze to a third creature that strode away from the pack. The beast limped into a sliver of moonlight. Kate brushed her wet hair from her face, gasping when she saw the macabre armor plates of human bones covering the monster that had killed Riley.

The grip of talons pulled on her left boot again, but Kate was barely paying attention. A guttural roar, louder than the others, sounded through the city as the creature grasping Kate’s feet dragged her across the ground.

The armored beast lumbered over on two feet, raised an arm severed at the elbow, and jammed the jagged bone into the skull of the beast holding Kate’s left boot. The sharp tip tore through the monster’s lips, a gurgling sound reverberating from its throat.

Kate pulled free of the dead creature’s grip and fell to her back. The Alpha limped over to her and towered overhead, a thick strand of saliva dripping from his open lips.

Defeated, Kate didn’t fight back. Her mind disconnected from her body. She just stared at the clouds, praying and searching for an angel she knew wasn’t coming.

Drops of rain plopped on her face. She flinched as one landed in her eye, blurring her vision. Above the trumpeting roar of the Alpha and the screams of the other prisoners came a different noise—a deep rumble that was growing with every second.

The cloud cover split in two, as if a curtain had been pulled back to expose a window. In the moonlight soared the same winged creature she had seen before. Two others flew into view, gliding through the darkness.

Heart pounding, breathing labored, and body shivering, Kate was certain she was slipping back into shock. This was nothing but a hallucination.

The Alpha grabbed her with his good arm and lugged her over his shoulder. Kate’s face hit the plate of human bones draped over the monster’s back, forcing the air from her lungs in one burst. She put her hand on her stomach to protect the little one growing inside her, praying that it hadn’t been hurt. Then she looked skyward to watch the angels that she knew couldn’t be real.

A raucous roar split the air overhead as the winged apparitions soared past once again. She blinked the rain from her eyes and stilled her breathing, but her heart thumped relentlessly in her ears. Steam rose off the bloody flesh of the creature carrying her. Kate caught a drift of the rancid, sour scent radiating off the wounds that should have killed it.

The Alpha stopped midstride to look at the sky. In a moment of clarity, Kate saw the winged creatures for what they really were.

Not angels.

Jets.

An entire squadron of them.

Raised voices woke President Jan Ringgold. They were distant, but familiar. Exhausted and confused, she struggled to open her eyes. A shroud of overwhelming fatigue imprisoned her. She cracked an eyelid to blurry tunnel vision, as if she was looking into a portal framed on both sides by walls of blue. There was a potent smell in the air—the scent of antiseptics.

“She’s sleeping, Mister Vice President, and she needs her rest.”

“I need to talk to her now, Captain. I don’t care if she’s out—wake her up.”

A hatch clicked shut, drowning out the voices.

The light in the room grew brighter, and the walls came into focus. They weren’t bulkheads—they were curtains. Gripped by a wave of anxiety, Ringgold remembered Lieutenant Brett’s haggard face in the seconds before he pulled the trigger and shot her. It was amazing what she could recall, the small details—the demented look in his eyes, the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Yet she couldn’t remember much before that. There were fragmented memories of Doctor Carmen being stabbed to death, Kate holding her hand, soldiers rushing into the room. And blood. There had been so much blood.

Ringgold struggled to sit up in bed. Her right collarbone flared from the sudden movement, another reminder of the bullet Brett had fired into her flesh.

The hatch to the infirmary opened again, the sound of footsteps following. Grimacing, Ringgold palmed the bed and put her weight on her good hand, using it to push herself up. By the time the drape around the bed was pulled back, she was sitting up, defiant and ready for whatever news was so important that Johnson wanted to wake her up.

The vice president stood there sandwiched between Doctor Klinger and Captain Rick Humphrey. All three men were staring at her with incredulous looks.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Madam President,” Klinger said.

Johnson took a step toward her bed, but before he could get out a word she said, “Don’t sugarcoat it. Tell me why you look as if you just put down your dog.”

There was no hint of amusement on Johnson’s face, only the distraught look of a man who was losing a war. “I have some important news, Madam President.”

Ringgold struggled to straighten her back. The EKG machine beeped faster as her heart rate elevated. Klinger walked to her side and checked her vitals on the monitor.

“Operation Condor was a success, thanks to Team Ghost and the Variant Hunters. They succeeded where every other strike team failed: They captured a live juvenile specimen,” Johnson continued.

Ringgold afforded all the men who had lost their lives a moment of silence. It was a tragic loss, but the mission had been successful. Yet she wasn’t stupid—if they had caught a juvenile offspring, then there must be something else on Johnson’s mind.

“Why are you really here?” Ringgold said, growing more irritated and anxious.

Johnson scrunched his brows together and tugged at his right cuff. “It’s Plum Island, Madam President.” There was a slight hesitation before his next words that Ringgold picked up on instantly. She gripped the bedsheets with her good hand to brace herself.

“There was a Variant attack on the island, facilitated by human collaborators.”

A helpless squeak she couldn’t hold in escaped Ringgold’s mouth. She thought of the innocents there, the women and children she had thought would be protected at the facility. Johnson continued before she could ask about Kate.

“The bioreactors are safe, and we are in the process of moving them to the George Washington. However, the Variants overwhelmed the island, killing Major Smith and capturing Doctor Lovato and a handful of civilians. We’re still searching for them, but intel indicates they’ve been taken back to a lair in New York City.”

Ringgold’s shock turned to anger. “Why are you down here wasting time telling me? Send every damn soldier you have at your disposal to get them back.”

Johnson exchanged a look with Humphrey. The captain had his hat cupped under his arm. He took it out and flicked it with his finger, avoiding Ringgold’s gaze.

“Well?” she asked. “What are you waiting for?”

“We are low on resources, Madam President. We lost almost all of our strike teams during Operation Condor—” Johnson began to say, but she cut him off.

“Do I look like President Mitchell to you, Johnson?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Mitchell may have written a blank check to General Kennor to run the military as he saw fit, but I have not given you one. Doctor Lovato is the most important piece of Operation Extinction. We have to get her back. Now, I want you to gather every soldier you can conjure up and send them to New York City to rescue her.”

Johnson nodded. “Team Ghost and the Variant Hunters are already gearing up.”

“Good,” Ringgold said, sighing. “Give them whatever they want. And tell Master Sergeant Beckham I have specific orders for him.”

“What are they, ma’am?”

“Bring Kate back alive.”

Blood. Tears. Sweat.

Heartbreak and hope.

The past six weeks had been one hell of a roller-coaster ride. With the development of Kryptonite and the capture of a juvenile Variant, Master Sergeant Reed Beckham had thought the war was close to being over, that humanity had a hope of defeating the monsters. Then, in a night of shattering terror, the grim reality of the new world had come crashing down on him.

Kate, Meg, and Horn’s girls had been kidnapped. Major Smith had been murdered by human collaborators, and Riley, Team Ghost’s little brother, was dead. There were a hundred things going on in Beckham’s head, and none of them were good.

His dream of a better life with the woman he loved and their child had been all but destroyed. He wanted revenge for Riley, but he had to save Kate and Horn’s girls. If he couldn’t, then there wasn’t anything left to fight for.

No, you piece of shit. There’s always something worth fighting for.

Every soldier surrounding him in the troop hold had something worth fighting for: They had each other.

Sergeant Rick Thomas, Staff Sergeant Jose Garcia, and Corporal Ryan “Tank” Talon sat against the bulkhead across from him. They were down a gun with Chow back on the GW, in surgery, but Corporal Joe “Fitz” Fitzpatrick was here. The wounded warrior sat next to Beckham, his dented blades still covered in blood, repeating the same mantra over and over again.

“I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t fucking save them.”

“It’s okay, Fitz,” Beckham said. “It’s going to be okay.” After a second glance, Beckham wasn’t sure if his words were true.

Fitz had an MK11 between his legs, his head was bowed, and his fingers were laced together. Under the shadow of his helmet, his eyes were on his blades, but they were unfocused, with the haunted look of a marine who hadn’t been able to save a friend.

The Variant Hunters stared at Beckham, waiting for something. Orders? A speech? Perhaps reassurance? He had nothing to offer them right now.

He avoided their gazes by reaching down and patting Apollo’s head. Learning that Fitz and the German shepherd were still alive had given him a small glimmer of hope: Miracles happened. But not often.

Especially in a world overrun by monsters.

Apollo whimpered, and Beckham checked the dressing on his fur. A Variant had sliced him good, but the dog was tough as hell, and Apollo showed no sign of backing down from this fight.

Beckham shot a glance toward the open door of the Black Hawk, where Staff Sergeant Parker Horn roved the bird’s M240 machine gun across the ocean. If they lost Tasha and Jenny, Beckham feared he would also lose his best friend. Horn would never stop fighting either, but a man could only stomach so much loss. With the death of his wife, Sheila, Horn was already close to the edge. Losing Tasha and Jenny at the hands of the monsters would push him into oblivion.

That’s not going to happen.

Beckham gripped the strap of the M4 slung over his back. He rose to his feet and made his way next to Horn for a better look outside. The men were all loaded to the max with ammunition and weapons. They were going to need every round and grenade if they were to have any hope of rescuing Kate and the others.

“Be advised, Stinger squadron is reporting a group of Variants in Manhattan with civilians in tow,” one of the pilots said over the comm.

Beckham’s heart skipped. The F-18 Super Hornets couldn’t do anything to save Kate or the others, but hearing they had been spotted out there filled Beckham with new strength.

“What’s our ETA?” he asked over the comm.

“Three minutes, sir,” one of the pilots replied.

“Fly this fucking can faster!” Horn shouted. He angled the gun toward the water and looked over at Beckham, his eyes smoldering with the pain of a father who was on the verge of losing everything. “We’re going to get ’em back, right, Sarge?”

Beckham glanced back at Fitz and the Variant Hunters. These men needed him now, more than ever. Even Garcia looked frightened, his eyes wide in his bruised face.

We’re coming, Kate. Just hold on, baby.

No matter what he’d lost, Beckham knew he had to pull it together—he had to bury his fear in his gut, separate his personal feelings for Kate and the other prisoners from the mission at hand, and transform back into a Delta Force operator. It was the only way he would succeed in rescuing them.

“We’re going to get them back or die trying, Big Horn,” Beckham said. He clapped his friend on the back and looked out over the water, ready to give every piece of himself to save those he loved.

There was no way for Meg to tell how much time had elapsed since the attack on Plum Island. In her mind, it could have been hours or days. She could only seem to focus on one thing: Riley was dead.

It wasn’t fair.

The kid had died in a battle against a monstrosity that shouldn’t have existed, a beast wearing armor of human bones. The only consolation, if she could call it that, was the way his life had ended. Despite the wheelchair and the casts covering his shattered legs, he had gone down the way he had lived—fighting to the very end.

Meg’s heart was bursting at the seams. Nothing made sense, and she couldn’t seem to escape her thoughts. But that’s what nightmares were. That’s why they were so terrifying: Nightmares didn’t end. Minutes earlier she’d given up struggling against the creature lugging her through the ash-covered streets. She had to conserve her last dregs of energy to try to save Tasha and Jenny. She told herself she was going to go down fighting, like Riley, but how could she fight so many of the beasts without a weapon?

In the glow of moonlight, she counted fourteen Variants of various shapes and sizes, with two human collaborators leading the pack into Manhattan. The creatures were so filthy and deformed she couldn’t identify their genders. She thought the beast carrying her might be a male, but its narrow shoulders and a few long strands of strawlike hair had her reconsidering. Whatever it was, it was strong.

All around her, the beasts hurried through the streets with their human cargo slung over shoulders and scarred backs. Even those that were injured didn’t seem to slow their relentless pace. The monsters swarmed over the charred hulls of cars and scaled the toasted sides of buildings to scout for threats.

A jet roared overhead, sending whirlwinds of ash into the air. Grit peppered Meg’s face and stung her eyes. The Variants darted toward the sidewalks, squawking in their evil language.

Meg dug her fingers into withered skin as the beast carrying her leaped onto a curb and plodded toward the protection of an awning. Bouncing up and down, she focused on the familiar green canopy.

Could it really be?

The creature hunched next to the cherrywood frame of a door Meg had walked through hundreds of times. This was Mickey’s Irish Pub, the same bar where she had been known to slam down bottles of Jameson and Templeton Rye with her firefighter friends and her husband, Tim.

A flashback from those days caught in her throat, and she couldn’t hold back the tears. It was all too much. First Riley, now these memories …

Tears fell from her eyes as the jets came in for another pass. The sight did nothing to inspire confidence in Meg. In a few hours, she and the other prisoners would be underground. Then there would be nothing Team Ghost could do, no matter how much blood they spilled.

She couldn’t go back to those dark tunnels.

I’ll die first.

The rumble of the jets faded into the night, and the sounds of human engineering once again left the city, replaced by the sounds of monsters.

Tasha’s and Jenny’s sobs were the only thing that kept Meg from giving up. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter, just as Riley had been, and she wasn’t going to let those little girls die. With their protector, Riley, gone, she was all they had left.

The thought of losing them sent a spike of adrenaline through her. She remembered her favorite quote:

Firemen never die but burn forever in the hearts of the people whose lives they saved.

Meg was going to save Tasha and Jenny, even if she died trying.

She grabbed at one of the poles holding up the awning and wrapped her fingers around it. Using all of her strength, she pulled herself up and kicked at the same time. Her injured legs burned as her shoes smacked the beast that clung to her. It reared back in anger, shrieking. She swung free, then dropped to the ground. The impact sent a second jolt of pain ripping up her legs.

The Variants in the street looked away from the sky and focused on her, apparently just as shocked as she was. Those that weren’t carrying human prisoners slowly dropped to the ground and skittered around her. The beast she had kicked squatted, hunched its back, and planted its fingers like a lineman waiting to charge forward. A large diamond on its left ring finger caught Meg’s eye.

A female after all.

The abomination looked at Meg with reptilian yellow eyes, the lids clicking open and shut. There was no comprehension in the creature’s gaze. No memories of the person who had put the ring on its finger, no empathy for the children the other Variants were about to kill.

Only hunger.

And rage.

Meg took a step backward, her heart racing. The other beasts formed a perimeter around her. In the middle of the street, behind the monsters, stood the Alpha, with Kate still slung over his back. The doctor was docile, her body unmoving.

To the right, half a block down, the children were hanging over the shoulders of several emaciated Variants. They’d taken not only Horn’s girls but the little boy, Bo, as well. Rain rushed down the creatures’ naked flesh, bones protruding under pale, stretched skin. If it weren’t for the Alpha, Meg was certain the starving creatures would have already devoured the kids.

The female Variant in front of her popped its lips together and let out a high-pitched squeal that sent slobber splattering onto Meg’s shirt. She took another step back until she hit the shattered front door of the pub. A piece of glass crashed to the ground, breaking into jagged slivers.

A pair of Variants dropped to all fours and crawled across the sidewalk, leaving tracks in the mushy ash. They stopped ten feet away, cracking their heads from side to side.

What were they waiting for?

For a fleeting moment, Meg considered retreating into the building. She knew the layout and could possibly escape, or at least hide—but the thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She couldn’t pull her gaze from Tasha and Jenny. The girls were still screaming for their dad, and—

“Help us, Miss Meg!” Tasha shouted. “Please!”

Meg nearly choked on a surge of adrenaline. It was the same thing she felt before running into a burning building. Fueled by the rush, Meg bent down, scooped up a shard of glass, and lunged for the female Variant. She caught the beast off guard, jamming the shard into its right eye. The glass cut into Meg’s hand, but she continued driving it through the monster’s soft tissue.

It unleashed a piercing howl as Meg pushed deeper. With a frantic swipe, the Variant knocked Meg’s hand away and scrambled into the street, squawking in agony.

Meg limped after it into the road, gripping her injured hand in a daze, the adrenaline wearing out as the pain from the laceration and her legs took over. She shuffled toward the beasts holding the children, yelling in a voice she didn’t recognize, “Let them go!”

“Please help!” Tasha yelled back.

The Alpha directed a horned finger toward Meg. Before she could react, she was tackled from the side and pinned to the ground. Her head hit the pavement with a crack, and the air burst from her lungs. Stars crawled before her blurred vision. She sucked in a breath of air that tasted like rotting fruit and squinted to see past the curtain of wet hair hanging in front of her face.

High-pitched wails amplified all around her. The sounds echoed and rose into a chorus that sounded like an army one hundred Variants strong.

Closing her eyes, she let out a breath, took in another deep gasp, and tried to focus. She opened her eyes to the stars still floating across her vision. Beyond them, the Variant she had stabbed suddenly barreled toward her, the piece of glass still jammed in its right eye. It slashed at the creatures holding her down and then climbed up and straddled Meg.

Meg had seen the look before: It was preparing to strike. She closed her eyes again, weak now in her final moments, unable to watch. The adrenaline was gone, and with it her final shreds of courage.

She wanted to fight, as Riley had, but it was all too much, and when she tried to move she couldn’t budge. Her arms and legs were clamped down by the beast. The pain was agonizing. No matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t get free.

No. Please, no.

She squirmed again, and again.

“No!”

The screeching intensified, filling the city with the cries of the monsters that had claimed it as their home. There were faint traces of prepubescent voices as Tasha, Jenny, and Bo screamed for help that would never make it in time.

Meg took in another long, deep breath in a final attempt to find the courage she needed—the courage that would make Riley proud. She forced her eyes open and looked at the shard of glass in the beast’s eye, and then to the row of gargoyles on the roof of Mickey’s Irish Pub.

A drop of blood landed in Meg’s eye. She blinked it away, trying to focus on the stone faces she couldn’t remember ever seeing before. Squirming and kicking, Meg continued struggling under the beast’s powerful grip.

The Variant snapped at her face. She met the strike with a head butt that broke its nose and drove the glass deeper into its eye. Meg used the stolen moment to gaze at the roof. There were dozens of pallid statues.

Not gargoyles.

Variants.

All at once they skidded down the sides of the building, shrieking in a war cry louder than any Meg had ever heard. The female beast rolled off her and darted toward the Alpha. All thirteen of the Variants in the pack surrounded their leader, abandoning their human prisoners in the street. The collaborators raised their rifles at the building, the muzzles roving back and forth as if they didn’t know where to aim.

Meg crawled toward Tasha and Jenny. They were sitting up on the concrete, sobbing and reaching out for her. Bo’s mom, Donna, scooped up her son and rushed over to the girls while the other human prisoners scattered.

A gunshot rang out, and a few seconds later, the world descended into chaos. It took a second shot for Meg to grasp what was happening. She glanced over her shoulder just as the first wave of monsters from the roof hit the sidewalk. The Alpha and its small army met the second group head on, their claws extending and needle teeth clacking.

Meg pushed herself to her feet, blood dripping from her hand. She watched the two packs of Variants crash into one another with a force that sent some of the smaller creatures tumbling across the ground. One of the human collaborators continued firing, while the other took off running.

The Alpha in his bone armor plowed through the meat of the rival group, tossing Variants aside like rag dolls with his good arm and stabbing others with his jagged stump.

A female beast suddenly leaped into the air and latched onto the Alpha’s back. He bucked it off with ease and impal