CHAPTER 19

The vineyard housing the hive spreads out below us— an unassuming, massive warehouse with a rusted tin roof and its painted silo, just like Sam told us. If we have any doubts about this not being the right place, they are put to rest by what occupies the fields. Instead of budding grapes, the grounds are packed tight with leeches. So fucking many. Hundreds. Just standing there. Waiting. For us, no doubt.

We observe from our position upwind of the vineyard in the tree line high above the horde. I swing my binoculars side to side, hoping against hope to see some sign of Sam and Amy. To see some sign that they’re still alive, but all I see are those damned leeches. Rows upon rows. I’m not gonna lie, the sight scares me shitless.

“Ten o’clock,” Luke whispers over my shoulder, and I turn my sight to the left. The taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite my tongue in the same spot as the last time, stifling the groan of fear in the back of my throat. A golf cart sits haphazardly against a tree, tilted so much two tires lift off the ground. One of the research lab’s golf carts.

Did Sam crash it there, or did it get pushed from the gaggle of bodies pressing up against it? And if it was Sam and Amy who left it there, how the hell did they make it through this horde alive? Are they inside the building? Or laying underneath the hundreds of leeches in the fields, sucked dry and lifeless?

“Fuck.” I pull my binoculars away, not able to look at the sight of the cart anymore. I glance back over my shoulder at the dirt road behind us where Kip’s truck idles with the frequency generator and speakers set up in the back and ready to go. The sight of it is very underwhelming. It looks like some mad scientist simply threw together a bunch of wires and pieces of equipment and hoped for the best. Hard to believe it’s supposed to be our answer to ending this war.

“Are we doing this thing or not?” I whisper to Luke. He drops his own binoculars and glances over at me.

“Cool your jets. We only get one shot at this. We need to do it right.” He turns his attention to Lewis and Barclay. “We need to get as close to the warehouse as we can. Once the leeches get wind of us, they’ll come right at us, bringing them within range of the frequency. We don’t have to worry about the fields of foot soldiers. But anything inside is most likely stationary, so we need to make sure the frequency is close enough to take them out as well. Barclay and his men will cut a path through the leeches as best they can, but can we make it to the warehouse?”

Lewis shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”

“Remember what Doc H said.” Barclay’s gaze flickers around to all of us. “The tone may not be as effective out here in the open. The leeches may not succumb as easily as the one enclosed in the room. Be prepared to have to fight stragglers.”

I touch the rifle hanging on my back and then the knife on my hip. A little reassurance.

“Okay, then. I guess we’re doing this thing.” Luke sighs. “Our goal is simple, folks. Take out the super mind, rescue Amy and whoever else may be alive in there, and make it back out in one piece. We can do it.”

“What about Sam?” Gordo asks the question blazing in my head. “What about him?”

“If we take out the super mind, we rescue Sam as well,” I answer firmly, trying to convince myself along with the others.

I feel Luke’s hard gaze on me.

“Bix, you need to be prepared for the possibility that we may need to take him down—”

“We take out the super mind, Sam will be fine,” I repeat.

“You believe whatever you gotta believe,” Dom throws at me as he double checks the magazine on his rifle.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I demand.

“It means if that motherfucker even blinks my way, I’m shooting. And I really hope he blinks. Problem solved, just sayin’.”

“Then I put a bullet through your skull next.” My response is cold enough to freeze water. “Just sayin’.”

“Save your anger for the leeches.” Luke shuts us down before we get out of hand. “We have no idea what we’re walking into, or how Sam will react. Maybe Bix is right. Maybe Sam will be fine once the head honcho is taken out. We play it by ear. But we gotta work together, understood?”

I bite back the angry words on my tongue. Luke’s right. I duck my head in agreement.

“I’ll play nice if Dom agrees to,” I say. The cockroach tilts two fingers Luke’s way in a smartass salute at Luke’s questioning glare.

The big man sighs in resignation. “I’ll be glad when this is fucking over, and I don’t have to lead you assholes anymore. Let’s go.”

I take a couple of steps toward the truck.

“Guys wait.” Gordo’s voice stops us. All eyes fall on the kid. He smiles halfheartedly and rubs a hand over his neck. “I know this is gonna sound corny, but I want you all to know I’m proud to be a member of unit four. You guys have been my family for the past two years. Sometimes a better family than my own blood relatives.” He jerks a thumb at Mike.

Mike’s grin is bittersweet. “Hey, whatever, ass-wipe.”

Gordon ignores his brother’s comment. “I just want you all to know how much I care about you, and no matter how this turns out here today, I’m proud of you all.”

“Oh, geez,” Dom growls. “That makes this hopeless situation so much better knowing you’re proud of me. Gives me something to live for.”

Gordo flushes at Dom’s patronizing words. “I just wanted you to know how I felt, Dom. There’s really no need to be such a dick all the time.”

I fall in step with the kid. “You want to know the reason Dom’s a dick all the time, Gordo? Cause he’s a dick. Through and through. He can’t help himself. In fact, I think Dick’s even his middle name.”

“And his first and last,” Badger joins in. “I think dick was even his first word.”

“Hahaha, real funny. Why don’t you bite mine, asshole.” Dom grabs his junk and shakes it at Badger who reciprocates with a look of pure disgust.

Robyn brushes by us, shaking her head, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re all a bag of dicks. I should have stayed with my old crew—”

She trails off as the realization sets in that most of her old crew died at the Grand. A wave of pity washes over me, followed by anger. I don’t want to feel pity for her. She’ll stab me in the back at the first opportunity. But the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Well, I, for one, am damn glad you were with us. You saved our asses more times than we can count.”

I don’t know who looks more incredulous. Robyn or Badger. Badger is the first to speak.

“That’s it. We’re all dying today. Bix said something nice to Robyn. Spooky. As. Hell.”

Even as Badger makes light of the situation, Robyn’s dubious look turns into a smile. A real smile, not that fake one she spouts all the time.

“Thanks, Bixby.”

I don’t get time to reply. Barclay barks a command. “Okay people, nobody’s dying today. And enough with the high school drama. Move out. Those things are going to spot us sooner or later, and I, for one, want to be prepared.”

I’m glad for his reprimand. It covers my embarrassment at my moment of weakness. We all move toward the truck.

Lewis and Robyn climb into the cab. Her job is to protect him while he drives. The rest of us pull ourselves up into the truck bed, making our way around Doc H’s equipment and the two ultrasonic speakers mounted to the sides. Barclay and his guys lay claim to the front of the truck, the huge-ass weapons resting atop the cab and ready to blow us a way through the leech field below. I take position along the left speaker, Badger on one side of me, and Gordo on the other. Barclay slams his hand against the roof of the cab, giving the signal to move out, and the truck lurches forward. I wipe the sweat from my lip as I give Gordo a reassuring grin, trying to ease some of the panic I see in his face. This is it.

As we approach, we can tell the moment they become aware. Agitation replaces their calm and quiet shuffling. Hundreds of heads swivel our way. Noses lift in the air; our scent arouses their interest. Their hunger. Within seconds, a chorus of gurgling inundates the air, so loud it drowns out the truck’s engine. The hair on my arms stands straight up. I always hated that fucking sound, but it seems so much more sinister now knowing they’re communicating our arrival.

Geysers of blood mist the air as the worms tear their way from the hosts’ throats, snapping anxiously. Eager to tear at our flesh.

Moving in unison, the horde breaks into a run toward us like an avalanche. One huge fucking carnivorous welcoming committee. Only they aren’t prepared for the hostess gift we’re bringing.

“Turn it on,” Barclay shouts at Luke over the shrieks and gurgling. Luke shoves the tiny pieces of cotton in his ears, and we all follow suit. He flips the switch on the generator. The two giant speakers crackle to life and despite the cotton, my ears are still assaulted by the shrill tone. I wince but don’t take my eyes off the damn leeches. I don’t want to miss a minute of their reaction.

They cover the fields impressively fast. As soon as they are in range, Barclay and his men start firing at those directly in our path, bringing them down. I pull my rifle to my shoulder. Any time now.

Like a wave, they spread out and start circling the truck. Fuck. Why aren’t they falling?

Suddenly as they pull abreast of the truck, the leeches halt their mad dash, causing the ones in the back to practically bowl them over. They stop moving as the hunger frenzy appears to be replaced by confusion. Then pain. A wailing fills the air, and they drop to the ground like dead birds falling out of the sky. Those on the ground writhe in pain, their agony tearing their attention away from us.

I see Badger mouth the words, “Fuck, yeah!” as he fist pumps the air, and I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. It’s working. It’s fucking working.

The truck plows through the sea of fallen bodies, bucking as it barrels over the bastards unlucky enough to fall under the massive wheels. Jets of black blood and guts squirt out across the fallen leeches, painting them in gore.

Take that, you bastards!

I don’t dare call it a victory yet, though. While most fall before they hit the truck, some are stubborn enough to make it past the frequency. They slam against the truck with a mixture of confusion and agony, trying to put a stop to the cause of their pain. We take them out easily enough. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel.

Luke catches my eye and points to the back of the truck. I soon see what he’s pointing at. The wave of divided leeches unites back together at the back of the truck, and unlike the sides where the creatures fall almost instantly, the ones at the back are somehow managing to stay on their feet. Maybe the frequency is lessened when not pointed directly at them? Whatever the case, I leave my position between Badger and Gordo and join Luke and Mike at the tailgate, assaulting the bastards trailing us. Each single torn face burns in my brain as I shoot, afraid that the next one will be a face I know.

We crawl our way toward the metal-roofed warehouse. I lose track of how many times I shoot. How many magazines I slam into my rifle. How many defunct humans I take down. I think of it more as putting them out of their misery. My mind goes as numb as the rest of my body. I block the field of blood and death from my mind’s eye, focusing more on Amy and Sam. I need to do this for them.

It seems like it takes forever, but finally we’re in the shadow of the massive building. Although Lewis brings it to a complete stop, the truck vibrates underneath our feet with the sound still emanating from the speakers. Robyn nimbly leaps from the truck cab and launches herself over the side to land in the bed beside us, surveying the devastation we left behind in the field. A smug grin covers her face.

“Good job,” she yells.

Luke pulls the cotton from one of his ears, and the rest of us do the same.

“Robyn and Badger, you two stay with the truck. Take care of anything that moves. The rest of us will go in.”

I nod in understanding, even though my heart is thrashing against my ribcage so hard it hurts. This was the easy part, getting through the field. We have no idea what awaits us inside. No idea if the frequency even affects the super mind. No idea if there’s an army of hybrids waiting for us to walk straight into their clawed hands. Only one way to find out. We jump down out of the truck bed.

We duck on instinct as a bevy of bullets ping along the truck, shattering the window where Robyn sat earlier. Lewis howls as he leaps from the truck on the other side and bolts around the back. The bullets strike the speaker in an explosion of sparks.

Fuck no! They took out the speaker. What the hell? How do they even have weapons? And where are they shooting from? I survey the warehouse, trying to pinpoint the location.

I’m so focused on searching the warehouse for the shooter, I don’t see what happens next. All I hear is Gordo’s agonized scream echoing in my ears.

“Badger!”

I turn back in time to see my friend, a huge chunk of his skull missing and blood streaming down his face. He stares at us as his mouth drops open in a hushed ‘O’ of surprise, like he can’t quite believe what’s happened. Searing pain emanates from my chest like I’d just been stabbed with a hot poker as I watch the life fade from his eyes, and he topples over the side of the truck.

Luke grabs Gordo around the waist, holding him back as he tries to run to his friend, still screaming his name.

Robyn overcomes her shock and leaps from the truck before she becomes the next victim. She doesn’t appear to be the target, however. Doc H’s generator bursts into a tiny box of flame as another couple of shots ping off the tailgate. We flatten ourselves against the warehouse wall but with the generator dead, the shooting stops as well. The resulting silence is almost deafening.

“Gordo, he’s gone,” Luke growls in the kid’s ear, as he keeps struggling against the big man’s grip. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Gordo stops struggling as his face crumbles. That look breaks my heart.

Badger is dead.

The realization hits home. A weight slams into my chest, replacing the poker. I can’t breathe. I start sucking in air as the black spots swim in front of my eyes. Afraid I’m about to pass out, I lean against the wall, trying to quell the ache of the claws scratching at my throat.

We stand there, the silence pressing in on us. No more shots. No more frequency tone. No more Badger.

“Pull yourselves together,” Barclay’s whisper breaks the stunned silence. “I know it’s hard losing a comrade, but we need to finish this. Now unless those fuckers have learned to use weapons, we have human enemies inside as well. Which means they’re beyond saving.”

Dom points his chin toward Barclay. “What he said. I recommend we don’t chance even going inside. We blow this whole place up now, while we have the opportunity.”

“No!” My knife is in my hand and pointed at Dom’s jugular, my grief making me crazy. “We won’t abandon our people. We save Amy.”

“Put that away.” Barclay calmly pushes down my knife. “I agree with you. We go in. We need the super mind’s death to be up close and personal. I want to drop a grenade right into its damn pod. We can’t take a chance of it living through blowing the warehouse. We need to be sure of its demise. Plus, there’s no way we could plant the explosives with whoever that is taking potshots at us. We need to take out the shooter.”

“Just say his name,” Dom utters in disgust as he stares at me. “There’s only one human we know of in league with these things. The sooner we kill Sam McKinley, the better.”

I growl in the back of my throat and raise my knife again, but I don’t say anything to the douche-bag. My mouth refuses to voice the words in my head. That Sam may be responsible for Badger’s death. If it’s true, then that’s something I’ll never be able to forgive him for. Or myself.