The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(99)

She scooted around a corner and peered up the wide boulevard bordered by what used to be swanky shops. The upper city was always more costly to live in than the lower city in the two-tiered metropolitans, according to her research, and from the faded beauty that surrounded her, she believed that was most likely true. The locale still smacked of opulence. In the all-glass store in front of her, elegant eveningwear adorned mannequins that resembled Roman goddesses. Only the back of the store was made of a material other than glass, and that was probably the fitting rooms and storage. The glass walls were treated, so the sunlight hadn’t bleached the dresses inside the shop. It almost looked ready to open for business.

“Just six meters up this road,” Lindsey said.

“The long dead world,” Torran breathed.

“Excess. Everywhere,” Franklin said dismissively.

Scrags of all ages, races, and genders stood like sentinels in the street. It was quite a large group and Lindsey swallowed her fear. They had enough time left on their stealth suits to make it through the throng.

A transport vehicle sat at the far end of the street. Apparently, an airlift had been overrun. There wasn’t any hope of using the transport to escape. The fuel in its tanks would have long gone stale and would need to be treated before use.

A short distance in front of the aircraft was the Rescue Pod. It had not been activated and still sat at street level.

“Be careful. This may get a little tricky. Keep close, but don’t follow in a single line. I don’t want us tripping over each other if we have to react quickly,” Lindsey ordered.

She started along the road, mindful to keep her elbows tucked at her side and her weapon against her chest as she carefully advanced past the Scrags in the torpor state. Some were standing very close together, and she had to double back a few times to find a better path through the crowd. Torran and Franklin also carefully scooted around the Scrags, avoiding the more heavily populated parts of the streets. Lindsey climbed over a bench and walked along the seat to avoid a thick gathering of the undead before hopping down. The uncomfortably loud thump of her boots striking the ground reverberated through the air.

A few Scrags near Lindsey twitched, and she froze in place.

Nearby, Torran and Franklin also stopped and waited for the echo to fade.

Around the trio, the Scrags sluggishly stirred, eyes shifting about in their sockets seeking prey.

“Don’t move,” Lindsey ordered through the comm link.

Seconds ticked away as the soldiers waited for the Scrags to settle back into their lethargy.

Lindsey checked her timer and comprehended there wasn’t any time to spare. They’d have to risk traveling through the crowd. She was the closest to the Rescue Hub, but wouldn’t be able to activate the controls without the remote generator in Torran’s pack. The Scrags continued to gradually rouse with no signs of returning to their torpor.

“We have to keep moving. We don’t have a choice,” she said. “MacDonald, as soon as we reach the hub, I need that remote generator activated. Franklin, cover us.”

Gripping her weapon tightly, Lindsey surged forward, weaving through the Scrags as fast as she could without touching them. The rap of her boot heels against the ground was joined by those of Torran and Franklin. The noise clearly agitated the Scrags.

The Rescue Hub was a large oval-shaped structure tucked between two buildings. The fence surrounding it was already open and the decorative garden planted around the hub was long dead and full of weeds. Emerging from the center of the hub was a thick metal pole that rose high above the other buildings.

Directly outside the hub was a young male Scrag. He’d be the first to revive fully and the most dangerous. Lindsey rushed him, piecing her plan together as she ran. Once close enough, she swung her weapon, clipping his jaw, and sent him falling against the smooth, white exterior of the hub. Before he could fully awaken, she punched the butt of her rifle into his throat, destroying his larynx and stifling his screech. As he slid off the surface of the hub, one hand lashed toward her. She dodged it and struck again. The blow smashed in his skull, killing the Scrag.

A second later, Torran skidded to a halt beside her just as their armor shimmered and returned to normal. Whipping the pack off his back, he yanked out the remote generator and turned it on as Lindsey pressed her tablet against the wall next to the controls.

“They’re definitely awake now,” Franklin muttered.

Glancing over her shoulder, Lindsey saw the Scrags sluggishly starting to move. They’d be slow at first, which would give her a little time. “Cover me, but conserve as much ammo as you can.”

As the Scrags nearest to the hub started in their direction, Torran and Franklin rapidly dispatched them, Torran using his weapon as a club and Franklin brandishing her knife. Lindsey tucked her firearm across her knees while working diligently on breaking the encryption on the lock.

“Rooney, you need to hurry. They’re waking up faster,” Torran said sharply.

“Working on it,” Lindsey responded, concentrating on her task.

A second later, Franklin opened fire on the awakening Scrags.

“Franklin!” Torran shouted. “Don’t!”

“They’re already awake!”

The rising screech of the Scrags sent shivers down Lindsey’s spine. The gunfire definitely was pulling the Scrags out of the blackout state even faster. Running footsteps sounded behind her, but Lindsey focused her attention on the panel in front of her. It was hard to concentrate as the weapons fired and the Scrags howled. Lindsey’s fingers quivered while she worked. Finally, she was able to skirt around the security locks and uncover the manifest of the people who had bought passes into the hubs. Lifting the code of one of the approved clients, she entered in the string of numbers and letters and the hub door slid open.