Element Zero (16 page)

MacReady thought about it for a minute.

That might work,
he said.

An alert flashed on the HUD in front of me. The advance team was reporting trouble at Palos Verdes.

“Damn it . . . ”

One last thing, MacReady: do you know anything at all about an effort to reanimate animals? Dogs, specifically?

Animals? No. Even for research purposes, we passed the need for animal trials decades ago. Why? What did you find?

More reports were spilling in from Palos Verdes. At least one revivor had been spotted and was being contained in the building.

“Wachalowski,” Van Offo warned from the back.

“I see it.”

MacReady, I have to go. Get me access to a revivor and at least five good candidates I can use it to spoke to.

I’ll try.

Get back to me as soon as you do.

I cut the connection, trying to find an opening in the lane ahead. Traffic was backed up as far as I could see. We were still blocks away from Palos Verdes.

I nosed into the intersection, where crowds had blocked traffic in both directions, and chirped the siren again. People moved out of the way, scowling and swearing as I inched past. The roadblock was up ahead. Two large military vehicles were wedged there, a gun turret mounted on each with a soldier manning it. A small chopper sat in the middle of a business plaza next to them.

I looked over at Calliope. She had one boot up on the dash and was glaring out the side window.

“You okay?” I asked. She didn’t answer.

“ . . . tally at each of the seven sites places the initial death toll somewhere around three hundred—”

Calliope stabbed the radio button with her finger, switching it off.

“Al,” I said over my shoulder. He didn’t answer. I checked the rearview mirror. He looked ashen.

“Al, how’s the neck?”

“Better than your arm.”

Someone nearby leaned on his horn, and a woman screamed back in Spanish. Al rubbed sweat from his face with one hand, and as he took a deep breath, his fingers shook.

Agent Wachalowski, over here.

A man waved from between two trucks off to the right, where the roadblock was set up. I edged the car down another side street and managed to creep along to where they were stationed. Two military vehicles sporting the Stillwell emblem sat in the street, while groups of soldiers kept the emergency lanes clear and watched for signs of trouble. Several soldiers approached as I pulled in and cut the engine. In front was their sergeant, a man named Ramirez.

I shouldered the door open and the others got out behind me. Rotors approached as I headed for the blockade. I held up my badge. Ramirez stepped forward to meet me.

“Agent Wachalowski,” he said, scanning my badge. His eyes flicked to the ashen fingers holding it. “We were told to expect you. I see you brought our soldier back.”

Calliope snapped a salute, and he returned it.

“Welcome back, Flax. We could sure use the help. Singh will fill you in.”

“Sergeant, I need to get to Palos Verdes Estates immediately,” I said. “Can that chopper take me there?”

“Stark Street’s inside a hot zone, Agent,” he said. “That whole area was overrun when the transmission went out.”

“I need to get inside that building.”

He nodded. Light flickered behind his eyes and the men near the helicopter began to scramble.

“Have you in the air in one minute,” he said. “Watch yourself out there.”

Snow, salt, and sand was kicked up, and Vika shielded her face. A soldier inside the chopper gestured for Van Offo and me to get in.

Van Offo, come on.
He stood with his back to me.

“Al, we’ve got to go!” I called.

I can’t, Nico. Sorry.

He turned to look at me and swayed on his feet. Sweat was beaded on his forehead in spite of the cold, and dark circles had formed under his eyes.

“Al—”

A red spot appeared in the middle of the gauze patch on his neck and began to expand.

“Medic!” I shouted. Ramirez signaled, and two men sprinted toward us as Al lost his footing. I got an arm around him as he slumped and guided him down onto the cold blacktop.

Blood seeped through the gauze patch on his neck. As the medic knelt beside him, I used the backscatter filter and saw a big, dark pocket had formed under the skin where the patch was. He’d hemorrhaged, and was bleeding internally.

“Sir, step back,” the medic said as a second man joined him. I stood and backed away. Al opened a circuit as his eyelids fluttered and closed.

Get going,
he said.
There’s no time. I told you, I die today. I already knew that.

I nodded.

Zoe will stop him.

What?

He reached blindly with one hand as they tried to staunch the blood.

You will kill Fawkes—that’s what they think—but Zoe will stop him. That’s what she believes.

How? What does that mean?

I pity that girl,
he said.
All she ever seems to see is death and destruction, with her at its center. It’s too bad.

Al, how does she stop him?
For just a second, his eyes got that amused look they sometimes got.

She’s got it bad, for y—

The connection dropped. The medics continued to work on him while the soldier in the chopper signaled to me again. There was nothing I could do. I headed toward them and climbed in.

Cal, I’m going off the grid for a while.

I got it.

Good luck.

You too.

The chopper lifted off, and she scowled up into the wind from the rotors. Off to the side, I saw the medic signal to Ramirez and shake his head. Van Offo had died.

His blank eyes still stared up at the chopper as we lifted off into the air.

Calliope Flax—Avenue De Luz

When the chopper took Nico up, Van Offo bled out and kicked it. I helped wrap him up and get him in the back of the truck, then took the kid to Singh, to see what he wanted to do with her.

“Flax, good to see you in one piece.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“Sorry about your friend,” he said, and jabbed a thumb at the body.

“He wasn’t my friend. I hated that asshole.”

The wind blew and I smelled blood mixed with those shitty cigarettes he smoked.

“There is no door,”
a voice said—a girl’s voice—right in my ear. I looked around, but no one was there.

Pain throbbed in the back of my head, and everything went blurry for a second. My mouth filled with sour spit. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for it to pass. When it did, I got a flashback to my old apartment. It was so real, I could smell it.

I was standing in the hall across from the bathroom and I’d pushed aside the flag I took back from Juba. Behind it was a door, and I stood in the open doorway. The room on the other side had walls and floors covered in plastic. There was a gurney and a tray of surgical tools in the middle.

A little, spooky-looking woman stood in front of me, blocking my way. She stared up at me, the middle of her eyes black.

“There is no door,”
she said.

“You okay?” Singh asked, and when he touched my arm, I jumped. I shook my head to clear it and pushed him away.

“I’m fine, dickhead.” I spat on the ground.

“I don’t think you are,” he said. He leaned a little closer and tapped behind his ear with one finger, right in the spot where I had the scar from the inhibitor implant. “They know.”

As the medic slammed the doors to the back of the truck and Ramirez got on the radio, I started to put in a call to Wachalowski, but before I could open the channel, something stopped me and I let it drop.

“Don’t call him,” Singh said, and for a second, I felt dizzy. “Just relax. Everything is fine.”

Ramirez glanced back over his shoulder at me as he stepped toward the jeep. I could just make out his voice over the wind.

“Yeah, she’s here,” he said, then paused. “We took him out by chopper. Van Offo is down, so we haven’t got anyone with him. . . . Yes, he’s en route to Palos Verdes.”

He was talking about Nico.

We haven’t got anyone with him. . . .

“Who the fuck is he talking to?” I asked. “What do you mean, ‘they know’?”

Singh acted like he hadn’t heard. He looked down at the kid.

“Who’s this?”

“My name is Vika,” she said.

“Where’d you find her?”

“A fucking stork dropped her off. In Pyt-Yahk, dipshit. Who is Ramirez talking to?”

“No one. Don’t worry about it.”

Fuck that.
I went to call Nico again, but again I fumbled the connection and it dropped.

“I said don’t,” Singh said. He looked down at the kid and shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Where the hell was I supposed to bring her?”

Singh leaned in to talk in my ear. I felt dizzy again for a second, as I felt his breath on my neck.

“I can help you,” he said.

“Personal space, asshole,” I said, but I could see the others looking at me and flags were going up. Singh meant the Huma injection. They knew about the injection.

“However you avoided the kill switch, you’re still affected,” he said, squeezing my arm. “We need you.”

“Fuck off, Singh.” I tried to push him away, but he held on.

“Listen. In about two seconds, Ramirez is going to come over here,” he said. “He’s got orders to take you out of here.”

I checked on Ramirez. He was over by the truck, still on the radio, but he kept looking back at me.

“Take me where?”

“The test facility, back at base.”

“What test facility?”

“Keep your voice down. You know the one I mean.”

“How the hell—” He squeezed my arm.

“I’ve known for a while,” he said. “I didn’t say anything. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t. I did what I could to keep you out of that place, but they know now. They’re taking you. Don’t resist them.”

I looked at the kid. She wasn’t sure what was up, but she knew it was something. She looked at me, not sure what to do.

“What about her?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t help her, but I can help—”

I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and his eyes went weird. The pupils opened all at once. I swayed, and he steadied me. Then it passed.

“Cal, don’t resist,” he said. “If you do, they’ll—”

“Stop talking, Singh.” I looked at the kid.

“Cal, I—”

“Shut up.”

Vika,
I sent. Green light flashed in her pupils.

Whts wrng?

When I say run, you run.

She didn’t ask why; she just nodded.

Singh put his face close enough to mine that I could smell his shitty cologne, and his eyes got that weird look again.

“Don’t resist,” he said, his voice low. “Just relax.”

“You relax,” I said, and shoved him. He stumbled back, but got his feet under him before he fell. The others looked over. Singh stared back at me, his eyes bugged.

“What the hell?” he said under his breath. Ramirez had put down the radio and was coming over.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“No problem, sir,” Singh said. Ramirez looked down at Vika, then back to me. He had that look on his face he always had when his cock was in a knot.

“Flax, we have orders to take you back to base,” he said.

“Why?”

“That’s need to know.” He held out one hand. “Hand over your weapon.”

Over his shoulder, I saw the rest of the squad step in like they were expecting trouble.

“Ramirez, what the hell?” He glared at me, and his eyes got that same weird look Singh’s had. I felt dizzy for a second, then it passed.

“I said, ‘Hand over your weapon,’ Flax,” he said. “Do it. Now.”

“Son of a bitch,” I said. He stared back with his fucked-up eyes.

“You’re with them,” I said. I looked to Singh, but his eyes were the same. “Both of you.”

They looked at each other, and I knew it was true. They were just like that red-haired bitch, and that other one that rigged me with a bomb and then mind-fucked me. Both of them were in on it. This whole time, they were all in on it.

“Just relax,” Ramirez said, and I felt the tension ease out of my body. “Just stand there. Don’t move. If you try to move, you will find you can’t.”

I tried to answer, but nothing came out. I tried to open my mouth, but I couldn’t. Ramirez spoke into his radio.

“We’ve got her,” he said. Then he nodded.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vika. She stared straight ahead, still as a statue, like me.

“Everything is still set up and ready to go,” he said to Singh.

“Can they do it without killing her?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

Slowly, I reached down and took my weapon from its holster. Ramirez snapped his fingers.

“Hey! I told you not to move.”

All of a sudden, the wire lit up red and alerts started flashing on the HUD. From the reactions around me, everyone saw them.

“Sir?” someone asked, but Ramirez held up his hand, orange light flickering in his eyes. Something big had just gone down. Everyone was distracted. I handed the gun to the kid, and she took it.

“Holy shit,” Singh whispered. He was staring into space, reading something off his JZI, and he looked scared.

I skimmed the stream of alerts that were pouring in as I took a step back, away from the others. I saw a satellite map of the city that showed part of the coastline. Words jumped out at me: “point of impact” and “blast zone.” A red marker flashed on the map.

“Jesus, he launched,” Singh said. “The crazy son of a bitch launched. . . . ”

Something boomed overhead and everyone looked up. High above, against the gray blanket of clouds, a small, dark shape had appeared. A distant shriek swelled as it moved quickly across the sky, leaving a thin contrail behind it.

Run,
I told Vika.

“Hey!”

A gun went off near my face and I heard glass explode behind me. I chanced a look back in time to see the kid scoot into an alley. The guy that fired had moved in next to Singh. I grabbed his wrist and twisted hard enough to bring him to his knees. He grunted as I peeled his fingers off the pistol and took it before kicking him down onto the pavement.

“She’s not under!” Singh yelled. Ramirez grabbed my collar, his eyes black. The dizzy feeling hit me again.

“Go to sleep,” he said. “Now.”

Before he could do anything else, I landed a punch right on his ear. He staggered off to one side, drawing his weapon.

“Goddamn it, grab her!”

“How long until impact?”

“Less than ninety seconds!”

“Where? Where?”

I stuck the gun in the face of the soldier closest to me.

“Next one that moves gets his fucking head blown off!” I barked, as two more took aim at me. “Get those guns off me or I will fucking shoot him!”

“Stand down!” Ramirez ordered. “We need her alive!”

They lowered their guns. The guy I had covered glared back at me as the whistle from overhead dropped lower and lower in pitch. It was one of the ICBMs. Fawkes had just dropped one of the twelve nukes.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” someone yelled, and Ramirez turned on them.

“Get it together, people!” he barked. “We’re fine where we are! We have our orders, and I expect you to follow them!”

“You’re not taking me,” I told him.

“You’re making a big mistake, Flax. Singh, get her under control. Now.”

“What the hell is this?” Singh whispered. He looked twitchy. “It’s not working. . . . Why isn’t she under?”

The rest of the squad stood there, guns out, not sure what to do. Ramirez looked pissed.

“You’re not getting out of here,” he said. He took a step toward me, and I went to hit him again, but when I moved the gun away, a pair of beefy arms grabbed me from behind. They pinned me and squeezed.

“Hold her!”

“You motherfuckers!” I yelled. I stomped Ramirez on the shin with one boot. His face went dark and he grunted.

“Hold her still, goddamn it!”

I got one foot behind the guy who’d grabbed me, then hooked his leg and flipped him. He let go when he started to fall, and I spun around. When he hit the blacktop, I put the heel of my boot down on his face.

Blood squirted from his squashed nose and he stayed down, but two more were right behind him and every time my heart beat, the pressure in my skull got worse. They were all around me and I should have turned on the next-closest one, but I didn’t. I dropped to my knees over the guy I just took out and bashed his head into the pavement. Before I knew what I was doing, I felt my mouth open wide and warm spit leaked out.

Do it . . .

His skin was hot under my hand. I could feel the blood pumping under my palm, and something in me wanted to feel that meat between my teeth, even when the gun pressed against the back of my head.

Do it . . .

What the fuck? What the fuck is happening to me?

“Don’t shoot! We need her!” Singh yelled. I turned around in time for something to cream me right in the forehead. I saw stars, and my legs went out from under me.

“Watch the head, goddamn it!”

My knees hit the blacktop. I tried to get back up, but my legs wouldn’t do it. Everything spun around me, and I felt blood run out of my nose.

Before I went down, someone caught me. Arms held me and lowered me onto my back.

“You’re okay,” I heard Singh say in my ear as the lights went out. “Don’t worry.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

The last thing I heard was the faint roar of the missile, turning from a shriek to a low rumble as it fell down toward the earth.