The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(70)

“Let’s go,” Chief Defender Solomon ordered.

The metal lattice fastened to the frame of the stairway hid the soldiers from the eyes of the undead creatures, but the pounding of footfalls against the metal steps of the stairwell rattled Lindsey’s nerves. Thankfully, they were far enough from the Scrags that the wind carried away the sound.

Arriving at the concrete pad before the loading doors, Lindsey checked the status of the departing tiltrotor. Yates, one of the squad members, hurried to use a key-hacker on the doors. Another soldier, Carter, carrying a small remote generator on his back, joined her. The generator would produce a wave of energy that would power the doors and lights temporarily.

“How’s your eagle eye view?” Lindsey asked Scoggins after switching over her comm.

“Main activity continues to be on the west side, but more have arrived from the north. They have yet to reach the fence, but are closing in,” the pilot answered.

“Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lindsey updated the chief defender and Torran over their dedicated channel.

Solomon looked pensive at the news. “How soon before the Scrags hit the fences?”

“Within five minutes, but that’s within our anticipated parameters,” Lindsey replied.

“We’re on schedule,” Torran added.

Examining the heavy curtain obscuring the squad from the view of the Scrags, the chief defender said, “This screen seems to be working.”

Lindsey studied her readouts. “Agreed. Aerial drones are showing no significant movement among the Scrag crowd near the possible break point.”

“We do have unexpected trouble along the northeast side. They’re against the retaining wall,” Torran said, his tone turning grim.

“Show me,” the chief defender ordered.

Torran passed along the drone information to both women.

Lindsey tabbed through the images being transmitted by the drones by clicking on her wristlet that was linked into her hood’s screen. There was a massive amount of Scrags up against the wall that separated the complex from another warehouse, and it was already showing signs of stress. Blood sprayed into the air as those Scrags unlucky enough to be up against the concrete barrier were squished like ticks.

“How does the data affect our mission time?” the chief defender asked.

Lindsey ran a quick calculation in her head, not bothering with the suit’s tech. Again her mind sifted through the miniscule details, revealing the important bits in a simplistic tapestry. “Four minutes less than estimated.”

“Relay that to the aircraft, MacDonald. We need them to take a more direct path and not bother circling the area.”

“Yes, sir.”

The large metal door in front of them shuddered to life.

“Let’s hope they actually did store the food to last a hundred years,” the chief defender muttered, “and that it wasn’t just hype.”

As soon as the doors slid open far enough to allow entry, the squad hurried through with weapons raised and ready for whatever lay on the other side.

“We have bodies,” Franklin’s voice said tersely. “Long dead. Not Scrags.”

Lindsey slipped into the building and saw several deceased lying on the ground. They’d been dead for so long, the corpses were mummified. It was clear that all had died to a gunshot to the head.

“Were they Scrags?” Hobbes wondered aloud.

“Possibly,” Torran answered. “Keep alert. You know what to do.”

Lindsey studied the vast room warily. The simulation had been eerily close to the actual storage area except for the corpses and four loaders that were pushed up against the interior doors. The barricades were confirmation as far as Lindsey was concerned that they’d been smart not to enter through the roof entrances. It would have taken far too long to clear out the building.

Towering storage units painted in bright blue rose to the high ceiling. Each unit was designed to maintain the perfect environment for food storage and were not connected to a central power grid. There were plenty of places to hide, but Scrags didn’t like to hide. The minute they detected humans, they stirred to life. Of course, they were a little sluggish at first, so it was better to error on the side of caution. How long would it take for a Scrag who’d been locked up for nearly half century to wake up and attack?

Lindsey hurried with the rest of her team to clear the right side of the room. Row upon row of the storage units filled the enormous room. The remote generator spurred the lights overhead to glow, but there were still disturbingly dark spaces. Quick, precise sweeps cleared the areas as they advanced toward their objective. The small group skirted between a row of containers and the wall. The doors on both ends of the room were closed and had loaders jammed against them. There were several empty spots on the floor where storage units had stood, indicating that during the evacuation some of the food had been moved. So had the crew in the loading area held off the Scrags while the cargo ships carried off what they could? The evidence seemed to support that idea.

Along the way, they discovered more bodies at the base of one of the storage units.

“Shots to the head like the others,” Hobbes said grimly.

Lindsey glanced at the mummified bodies. They were wearing uniforms from the armies of the old days. Flags from long gone countries decorated their shoulders.