2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent) (56 page)

Henderson turned it over with the tip of her rifle, an arm flopping loose as she did so. ‘It’s Sergeant Alvarez, Captain. From the looks of his heat signature, he’s stone cold; must have been dead for a while.’

The captain joined her and looked down at the lifeless form. ‘He’s got extensive injuries, all his limbs are broken and there’re some big wounds here, on his torso; he would’ve bled out quickly.’

A loud noise ahead made them jerk their guns in its direction; they all held that pose for some moments, but nothing else stirred.

‘Let’s keep moving.’ The captain stepped over the body of the dead soldier.

As they moved through the metallic tube Dixon kept glancing at the strange walls, even putting his hand out to touch them as he passed by. Forty feet on the tunnel opened out into a large, square room, hewn out of the rock; in the corner the shape of a small person could be seen huddled against the wall.

The captain motioned for Henderson to approach, while he and Dixon entered behind, covering her and each other. As Henderson got within ten feet, the person turned to face her. It was Susan!

Henderson held out a hand ‘It’s okay, sweetie, you’re safe now.’

Susan, her clothing, arms and face streaked with dirt and blood, didn’t move. As she sat there without making a sound, staring without seeing, her body trembled, the movement morphing into a continuous and violent shake. Her eyes swivelled to focus on something behind the Darklight unit, before they widened in terror and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

The image from Dixon’s helmet camera flickered and then a terrible noise filled the room. Susan put her hands to her ears and buried her head in her lap. Gunshots cracked out and Dixon spun round. The captain fired at a light that surged towards Dixon, who didn’t even let off a single shot as the image on the screen distorted and went black. Horrific screams and gunfire still emanated from the speakers for a while, until everything fell silent, only the faint sobs of Susan in the background an indicator that Dixon’s helmet microphone was still active.

‘Oh my God,’ Goodwin said, the whole episode disturbing him to his core. A faint noise in the room, echoing Susan’s own cries, made Goodwin turn; he saw Rebecca standing in the entrance to the tent, her hand over her mouth in shock, tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes filled with despair.

‘Commander—’ Goodwin said, but Hilt had already paused the recording on the computer, albeit far too late to protect Rebecca from the horrors they’d all just seen.

Kara, standing just behind Rebecca, gave Goodwin an anxious look, before dragging Rebecca from the tent. Goodwin went to follow them out, the compulsion to attempt to relieve Rebecca’s distress a strong one.

‘Wait,’ Hilt told him, ‘there’s more.’

Goodwin paused, torn between a dichotomy of duties. Knowing Kara would have things in hand, he relented, motioning for Hilt to continue; he needed to see it all, he
must
see it all.

The commander resumed the recording, the black screen a welcome relief from what had gone before. They continued listening for another minute, the occasional whimper from Susan making Goodwin feel helpless and sickened by her plight. Finally, the movement of something large in the room could be heard, a scraping of what sounded like metal on stone.

‘What is that?’ Major Offiah said.

Hilt held up his hand for quiet as a strange clicking noise grew louder, before becoming a deep penetrating growl, followed by the hissing of white noise as the audio stream failed.

‘That’s it.’ Hilt turned off the computer.

Goodwin rubbed his face with both hands, trying to get his mind round what he’d just observed.

‘We found nothing else at the scene,’ Hilt said to Goodwin and Offiah, ‘except for Dixon’s helmet and a lot of blood.’

‘No bodies?’ Offiah looked perplexed. ‘What about Alvarez?’

Hilt shook his head. ‘Nothing, nor any weapons or equipment.’

‘So whatever this thing is, it clears up after itself,’ Offiah said.

‘But leaves behind a helmet,’ Hilt added.

‘You think it left it there on purpose for us to find?’ the major asked.

Hilt shrugged his shoulders. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Why is Susan still alive?’ Goodwin looked from Offiah to Hilt. ‘Why hasn’t it killed her too? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘I have a theory,’ Hilt said, ‘but you’re not going to like it.’

‘Go on,’ Goodwin told him.

‘It could be keeping the bodies—’ Hilt hesitated, ‘to feed on.’

Goodwin stared at him in horror. ‘And Susan?’

‘Fresh meat,’ Offiah said.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Goodwin walked away from the two soldiers. He felt like he was going to be sick. Leaning over, he took a slow, deep breath.

‘It’s only a theory,’ Hilt said, when Goodwin had recovered somewhat.

‘What are you doing here, Commander?’ Goodwin asked, his voice weary as Hilt began moving around the tent, gathering up pieces of kit and stuffing it into a large backpack. ‘Why aren’t you out there, looking for Susan?’

‘I needed to show you what we’re up against. My men are still at the scene, some documenting the site for analysis, the rest fanning out into the tunnels. It’s a new system, massive, interspersed with its own sub-chambers. I think it may even lead us out of this chamber, but we won’t know until we follow it to its conclusion.’

‘You’re leaving us?’ Goodwin said in realisation.

Hilt zipped up his bag. ‘As I said before, it’s time to bring events back under our control, don’t you agree?’

Goodwin nodded.

‘I have every faith in you, sir,’ Hilt told him. ‘Major Offiah will handle operations here while I’m gone, he’ll serve you well.’

Goodwin looked to the Major, who gave him a brief nod. Hilt spoke to his command team for a few minutes before heading out of the camp, accompanied by Goodwin and Offiah. At the boundary between the lights of the small city of tents and the dark void beyond, Hilt rejoined the men who’d been with him when he’d returned to camp with Dixon’s helmet. There was a flurry of activity as other Darklight personnel brought various bits of gear from the rest of the camp. Huge backpacks crammed full of supplies were heaved onto broad, armoured shoulders.

A female Darklight operative approached her commander, handing him a substantial and exotic looking beam weapon.

‘Extra ammo has been put in your backpack, sir,’ she told him.

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ Hilt checked the weapon’s systems and mechanisms with practised ease; he then secured his thermal sword onto his back, the grip sticking out to one side over his shoulder. ‘Sir, we did find one other thing at the site.’ Hilt took something out of one of his pouches and held it out in his hand.

Goodwin looked at the other half of Susan’s bracelet, only a few stones and shells remaining attached.

‘Have you still got the other half?’ Hilt asked.

Goodwin nodded and withdrew it from his pocket.

‘I need to take it with me, and the one on your wrist, too.’

Goodwin gave him a quizzical look.

‘If it was the stones that drew this thing to Susan,’ Hilt said, ‘then it could save us precious time in locating it.’

Goodwin couldn’t quite believe the commander wanted to use himself as bait, but it was comforting to know the man seemed willing to go to any lengths to ensure Susan’s safe return. Goodwin slid the bracelet off his wrist and placed it, and the fragments of the other one, in Hilt’s hand.

‘Thank you, sir.’ Hilt tucked the objects away.

‘Your team are ready, Commander,’ the lieutenant told him.

Hilt nodded in confirmation and turned back to Goodwin. ‘As you can see,’ he stood aside to let Goodwin get a good look at the troops behind him, ‘I’m taking with me seventy-five of our best men and women. We’re fully loaded, but you’ll still have ample supplies here, if required.’

Goodwin surveyed Hilt’s unit, their matching black armour and formidable array of weaponry an intimidating sight. He also noted that ten of them carried black, sheathed, thermal swords, like their leader.

‘Bring her back to us, Commander.’ Goodwin held out his hand, which Hilt shook.

‘I’ll find her, sir.’ Hilt placed his helmet over his head, the visor raised, enabling Goodwin to still see his face.

‘And stay safe,’ Goodwin added, all too aware of what the Darklight leader was going up against.

Hilt surprised Goodwin with a small half-smile. ‘This thing likes to hide in the dark,’ Hilt told him, pressing a button on the side of his helmet; the visor and face plate slid together to form a solid, unyielding shield and the internal combat system within powered up, a deep blue glow emanating from its slanted eye-like sculpturing. ‘Two can play that game.’ He pressed another button on his wrist, sending a shimmering light dancing over the panels on his armour, until his whole body faded into the darkness behind it, only the top of his sword and glowing eyes visible; like a shadowy knight possessed by a malevolent and powerful spirit.

The ghostly figure of the commander saluted Goodwin and then turned to stride towards, and through, the ranks waiting for him. ‘Darklight, move out!’ Hilt said, his powerful voice ringing with authority.

As one, the Darklight unit activated their camouflage systems, each one melding into the blackness around them, their glowing eyes disappearing into the dark as they turned and followed their leader into the void.

‘Good hunting, Commander,’ Goodwin said, watching Hilt fade from view, ‘and good luck.’

Chapter Thirty Four

An ear shattering blast tore through the foyer of the FBI field office in Los Angeles. Government agents and security personnel alike were blown from their feet while others dived for safety. Debris, which flew in all directions, seemed to cascade down in slow motion before Samson’s eyes, the devastation an immutable, incontrovertible declaration of intent.

‘Colonel!’ Steiner’s voice rang out within his helmet. ‘We agreed no killing, what are you doing?! If you—’

Samson severed the connection between them, cutting Steiner off mid-flow. He had no time for such redundant protestations. Firing off another bolt of energy from his futuristic beam rifle, the recoil forcing him backwards, he obliterated another swathe of the reception area before tossing a couple of grenades into the mix, one towards the elevators and the other at front entrance.

Using the schematic of the building retained within his combat system, Samson ducked down a stairwell leading to the basement, two successive and deafening explosions booming out and a bullet zinging past his head as the door closed behind him. His armour’s cloak might help him blend into the scenery, but his form was still very much observable, especially under bright office lights. Taking the stairs three at a time, Samson ran to his first objective, the generator room.

Flying down a central hallway, smashing open any doors that barred his way, he soon reached his destination. Warning signs plastered the locked, metal door that faced him. Taking a small magnetic grenade from his belt, he snapped the device onto the door and retreated ten feet before detonating it. Blown from its hinges, the door disappeared in a loud bang and a cloud of smoke. Ghosting through the dust that hung in the air, Samson analysed the setup within. Walking to a set of thick cables which came out of the wall and down into a large, multi-point junction box, Samson grasped the first two with his shielded, composite gloves and ripped them out. Sparks flew and crackling electricity coiled around his wrists. He repeated the process twice more and the lights in the room failed, to be replaced by emergency backups, their low-powered red light dull compared to those he’d just rendered useless throughout the office block.

Samson moved back into the darkened hallway, the slits in his helmet aglow with the green light from his combat system. Running further down the hall, he saw two FBI agents approaching. They hadn’t seen him. He stopped and pressed himself flat to the wall in a small alcove. The two men were almost on him now, the red lighting casting deep shadows as they hunted him down, pistols drawn, covering each other as they moved in textbook tactical fashion. Sadly for them, Samson had no time for such naivety. The first man came within reach and Samson seized his gun, clamping his hand around the end of the muzzle. The agent fired on instinct, the resulting back blast engulfing the man’s head, making him scream out in pain. In the same motion, Samson fired his own sidearm into the second agent’s chest, the exploding round ending the man’s life and splattering the walls with his flesh.

Leaving his two victims behind, Samson continued to the end of the hallway. Ignoring the elevators, now disabled by his own hand, he dodged into a stairwell and stormed up the steps. Samson moved swiftly upwards, floor by floor. Shouts from below and above told him his pursuers sought to hem him in. Lashing out with a fist as he went by, he activated a fire alarm to add to the confusion of his enemy. Turning on his helmet’s air filters, he deployed two smoke canisters, one up and one down. Stooping low, he placed a thin heptagonal mine in front of a doorway before carefully stepping over it to move out onto the seventh floor.

A hail of bullets greeted him, the projectiles ricocheting off his armour and forcing him to turn his head to protect his visor. Unable to go back the way he’d come, he returned fire with his pistol. A host of small explosions subdued the onslaught, giving him time to dive behind a wide pillar and remove his rifle from his back. Getting his bearings, his visor’s HUD informed him six tangos closed on his position. Gunfire tore at the other side of his cover, spraying concrete chunks in all directions. Narrowing his weapon’s beam, he rolled from his position and fired three shots in quick succession before standing up behind another pillar. Three tangos remained, their firepower reduced but unrelenting as they tried to keep him pinned down. Unclipping a tiny aerial drone from his belt, Samson threw it into the hallway, directing it through the air with his eyes via his visor. A small strobe light on the miniature machine ignited at his command, flickering wildly, sending shadows cavorting in all directions. Samson made his move. Diving out in one fluid motion, he despatched two men with his rifle before taking out the remaining agent by directing the drone at his neck, the small device embedding into his carotid artery and felling him where he stood.