The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(94)

Lindsey edged around a rusted drone and was relieved to see she was almost to the entrance. The doors were stained and as she drew closer, she saw that some of the stains looked like smeared handprints. Nervously, she raised her eyes to examine the long cylinder that housed the stairwell to the upper city.

“What if they’re inside?” she asked.

“Hold up and give me a second,” Franklin said, sounding less and less like a soldier under their command.

Since she was part of a conspiracy to trap Maria, Lindsey supposed Franklin really wasn’t a part of their team anymore.

Franklin withdrew the binoculars from her pack and flipped on the stealth. The three soldiers stood perfectly still while Franklin studied the long transparent passage. From Lindsey’s perspective, the smudged tube appeared to be devoid of life. There wasn’t any movement near the bottom level at least.

“I don’t see any signs of Scrags,” Franklin said after a long pause. “There are some areas that look like they’re damaged, but we should be able to get past them.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Torran replied. “More are coming out of the water, and we’ll be visible shortly.”

“Let’s do this,” Lindsey said, and charged forward with the others on her heels.

Reaching the entrance, she gave the exterior a cursory glance. Signs in various languages were plastered over the door. Most were warnings about Infer Scourge infestations and safety procedures. One of the warnings was not to enter the tube if the plague broke out in the city.

Lindsey shook her head. No one would’ve paid attention to these signs when the Scrag infestation had started. With a sigh, she turned to see the remote generator emerging from what appeared to be slightly shimmering air. It didn’t have any sort of stealth protection. Lindsey winced when its sudden appearance drew the attention of a nearby female Scrag shuffling around a pod car.

“We have a problem,” she said.

The long, violent shriek of the Scrag rent the air. Instantly, the others answered.

“No time,” Torran exclaimed and grabbed the remote generator. Shoving it against the entrance under the panel, he activated it.

The lights above the entrance flipped on, as did several close streetlights.

“Shit!” Franklin shouted, and shot the female Scrag through the head.

Sound no longer mattered.

The lighted entrance was a beacon to the Scrags.

The howls and the thunderous sound of running feet reverberated around the living.

Lindsey scanned the panel as it lit up. “It’s locked! City security protocols has it shut down. I’ll override. Buy me time!”

“We don’t have any!” Torran snapped, but opened fire on the Scrags heading their way a second later.

“I’ll take out the closest,” Franklin said, wielding her weapon with her usual deadly accuracy.

Lindsey tore her eyes away from the Scrags rushing from the riverbank and concentrated on her tablet. There weren’t Scrags coming from any other directions yet, but she had to move fast before they were cornered. Though her head was throbbing painfully, her brain absorbed the information after a few seconds into her examination of the city security protocols and revealed it as an image she could easily disseminate. It took only a few seconds to recognize what she needed to do to unlock the doors, and her fingers sprung into a quick dance.

The sharp barks of the weapons firing escalated. Lindsey glanced over her shoulder just as the stealth suits returned to visibility. Torran was using two weapons to slow down the oncoming rush. He wasn’t attempting killing headshots, but aiming to cripple the Scrags and slow them down.

The herd was closing fast, maybe fifteen meters away. The ones in the front fell beneath the barrage of fire, legs shredded and buckling beneath them. The following Scrags tumbled over the fallen, and the tangle of bodies swiftly became an obstacle.

“Lindsey, how are you doing?” Torran asked, his voice sharp.

The entrance shuddered, and the doors opened with a wail.

“Done!” Lindsey darted inside, her weapon aimed toward the frozen escalator. Nothing moved above her. “We’re clear at the bottom.”

Franklin dashed through the doorway and Torran followed, grabbing the remote generator as he scooted inside. Lindsey hit the door controls. They stuttered to a halt, then reversed their movement.

Aiming at their heads, Lindsey fired at two Scrags about to shove their way through the doorway. The back of their skulls erupted in a volcano of blood and brains. The sight sickened her, but was strangely satisfying. The oncoming Scrags weren’t going to make it to the doors on time and she exhaled with relief as they thumped closed. She locked it just as the Scrags hit the doors.

The area the surviving soldiers were in was a rectangular room that enclosed the bottom of four wide escalators: two ascending, two descending. The remote generator didn’t have enough juice to activate the underground mechanism, and Lindsey turned it off. The lights overhead dimmed, then blinked out as the generator ceased to function.

Torran stood on the steps above her while Franklin peered out at the Scrags beating their hands against the glass of the long windows on either side of the entrance. It was thick and would take great force to break through, so Lindsey assumed they were relatively safe for the moment. Exhaustion weighed on her, and she took a deep breath to steady both her nerves and wildly beating heart. Meeting Torran’s intense gaze, she licked her parched lips and gave him a slight nod.