The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(69)

Dr. Curran also stood and gripped the handhold overhead. Her gaze met Lindsey’s briefly, and her expression was difficult to discern. Lindsey wondered if Dr. Curran resented having to go on missions not associated with her quest to reclaim Maria as a lab rat. The thought brought a smile to Lindsey’s face. Dr. Curran gave her a questioning look, then turned away.

A blast of air struck the soldiers as the exit widened and the tiltrotor hovered over the roof of the food depot. The squad dropped a few feet onto a catwalk that stretched along the length of the building and past two towers that were the tops of granaries. The steel and black exterior was covered in a thick layer of grime. Years of weathering had eroded some of the protective paint, allowing spots of rust to form.

Lindsey tugged the mask of her stealth suit over her head, claimed her weapon, and followed the others out. The stealth suits looked very different in the direct morning light. The sunshine added an odd shimmer to the dark gray fabric. The feed in Lindsey’s helmet revealed that everything was going as planned so far. Behind Lindsey, two squad members pulled a long tube out of the undercarriage of the tiltrotor while two aerial drones dispatched and skimmed along the roof to peer over the edges to scan the perimeter.

“You know what to do. Let’s make this fast and painless. I don’t want any deviations from the plan. No sightseeing. This has to be fast, people. We have two cargo transports in route, and we need to be ready for them,” Chief Defender Solomon instructed before leading the squad along the catwalk in the direction of the stairwell that would deposit them near the loading doors.

A rumble in the sky jerked Lindsey’s attention upward. The storm was moving in much faster than anticipated. Hopefully they’d be done and out of the area before it hit in full force. Moving swiftly past two rooftop entrances into the food depot, Lindsey was relieved that the doors were secured. There’d been some discussion about descending through the roof and sweeping through the upper floors of the depot, but the plan was deemed too much of a risk. Final reports from the depot had indicated there was an outbreak inside the building. At last, it was agreed that the main storage area would be easier to enter via the loading dock doors. Also, it would give the squad only one area to clear instead of the entire building.

The food depot was three stories high, taller than most of the structures around it. The evacuation center to the east was a modified airport. The main building appeared to be in decent condition, but the landing pads and surrounding field were filled with Scrags. The approach of the tiltrotor had been masked by the wind blowing away from the Scrags, but some creatures along the edges of the crowd had witnessed the arrival of the team and were rousing out of their stupor. Meanwhile, to the west, the Scrags that had clogged the streets awakened as the tiltrotor flew over. The undead streamed toward the food depot.

The wind buffeted the squad as they sprinted across the rooftop. The stealth suit helmets were more like hoods with a flexible faceplate, and when another strong gale hit the squad, Lindsey grunted as her visor smacked into her nose. The suits had worked fine in the training room, but now Lindsey wondered if they were suitable for the missions. She was beginning to long for her Constabulary armor even if it was old and clunky. The suits didn’t have an oxygen system like the regular armor and the air filters tucked into the sides of the hood only fed them fresh air. The smell of rot and ozone drifted through the filters. That wasn’t particularly comforting. She’d rather smell the stale air of recycled oxygen in her old suit.

Running with the squad, Lindsey kept an eye on those carrying the stealth curtain. It was a bit bulky, but she was glad it had been made in time for their departure. It would hopefully deceive the Scrags and postpone them breaching the fences.

The Scrags filled the area between the old warehouses and equipment storage depots. Air gusts carried away their terrifying screeches, but the noise was loud enough to tease along the edges of Lindsey’s hearing.

“There’s so many,” Hobbes said in awe.

“The world is filled with them,” Torran answered sadly.

An aerial drone skipped alongside the squad, bobbing on the choppy air currents. When the soldiers reached the platform above the loading dock, the drone flew ahead, its long legs extending to catch the rail of the catwalk and perch where it could capture the static image that would display on the curtain.

So far, everything was going as planned, which both elated and terrified Lindsey. If things were going this well, did that mean they would succeed, or was it just a setup for a catastrophic failure? It was hard to believe in good things when so much had gone wrong.

Franklin swept past Lindsey, peering at the Scrags through her weapon scope. “They’re getting rowdier.”

“That crowd isn’t the one we need to worry about. It’s that one.” Lindsey pointed toward the Scrags located in the rear of the complex that had yet to fully register their arrival.

Sweeping her weapon toward the Scrags clustered in the back, Franklin scowled. “They’re quiet for now.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Lindsey replied.

Reaching the catwalk, the squad separated to allow the soldiers hauling the screen through to the railing. It only took a few seconds to secure the enormous piece of fabric and unfurl it. Lindsey and Torran stepped to the rail, peered down, and exchanged looks. The projection of the closed doors flicked on, matching the area behind it.

“It looks good,” Torran said approvingly.