Outside of his family, the only true friends Nathanial had ever known were computers. From the time he could type, machines were a part of his life. They gave him his own power and control, but the wave had taken even them from him. Oh sure, there were computers all over Def Con, but the web and cyberspace no longer existed. He’d lost everything. Nathanial was alone, and death was coming for him. The transmission from the Freedom II had fired his hopes that the old world would return, but now he knew deep in his heart that the people on the other end of the transmission were evil incarnate, and he wasn’t going to let them take the last thing he had left: his soul.
Weeks ago, he had been forced to disable the base’s self-destruct system to save himself and everyone trapped with him. The codes had been easy to break for someone like him, and they were even easier to manipulate now. Def Con itself would be his shield when the darkness came, a shield of fire and retribution.
His soul would remain his own.
Wade finished covering the last mine as yet another one of the infected emerged from the trees. He didn’t waste the time or the ammo to dispose of it. Instead he broke into a run for the gates. As he passed through, Troy and Jeremy slammed them shut behind him. The psycho threw itself against the barbed wire, clawing at the fence and foaming pink at the mouth.
“That does it.” Wade collapsed to the earth, out of breath. “We’re as ready as we’re going to be.”
They had spent the last few hours littering the area outside of the fence with mines and barricading the doors of the garage. “As long as those things out there don’t trip all the mines before our company shows, we should at least have a chance,” Geoff said. He had drunk cup after cup of black coffee, trying to sober up while supervising the others.
“Don’t worry,” Troy said, patting his .30-.06, which was equipped with a sniper scope. “Me and my friend here won’t let them.”
“Guess all we can do is wait,” Jeremy said. “It’s almost time for the Freedom II to make contact again.”
“You go on and be there with the rest of them when it happens,” Geoff urged as Troy climbed to his position atop the garage. “Us three pretty much got things covered up here.”
Jeremy nodded. He took one last glance at their work and then headed for the shed and the outer seal leading into the complex.
19
Toni was the first to join Nathanial in the control room. He looked haggard, as if he’d never left his station since the Freedom’s first transmission. Jeremy and Sheena came in minutes later. No one asked where Ian was and Jeremy was thankful for it. He hadn’t decided what to do about the former CIA agent’s condition and didn’t see any reason at this point to add the worry to the rest of their collective woes. “Everything ready?” he asked.
“We’re set up to trace them the second they make contact,” Nathanial assured him. They all watched the communications console as the figures on the time display flashed and changed to the appointed hour.
“Come in, Def Con. This is Freedom II. Do you copy us? Over.”
“Go!” Jeremy shouted at Nathanial, and the computer engineer began the trace.
Toni hesitantly opened a response channel. “This is Def Con. We copy you, Freedom II.”
Seconds ticked by in silence. No reply. Nathanial indicated that he’d managed to get a fix on the origins of the transmission. All the color had bled from his face. “It’s coming from a point just two miles south of here and closing slowly… Sweet Jesus. They really are coming for us.”
Troy saw the convoy first from his spot atop the garage. A line of pickups, four-wheel drives and jeeps bounced up the winding gravel road, growing ever closer. Troy counted thirteen vehicles in all, and numerous men and women on foot jogged along at their sides. The thing that bothered him, though, was the infected’s lack of interest in the convoy. He knew for a fact that there were packs of the creatures still out there in the woods, but for whatever reason they were not attacking. It could only mean one of two things: either these people knew a way to control or ward off the creatures, or they themselves were so poisoned by the radiation in the atmosphere that the infected didn’t recognize them as human.
Using hand signs, Troy gestured what he saw to Geoff and Wade, who were concealed in the remaining bushes just inside the fence. Then he said a prayer for them all and checked the chamber of his rifle to make sure it was ready.
“Come in, Freedom II. Come in,” Toni repeated over the open frequency.
“Give it up,” Nathanial suggested. “They got what they wanted: a definitive fix on our exact position. They’re done talking now.”
Toni’s shoulders sagged with defeat. Her fears were confirmed, and in that moment she knew she was the one who had called this new terror upon them. She turned to look for Jeremy, but he was already gone from the control room.
It was one of the joggers rather than one of the vehicles who stumbled onto the most outlaying mine. The explosion and the rain of pulpy, charred flesh brought the convoy to a halt. People began to pour out of the vehicles and leave them behind.
Troy swore under his breath. Whoever was leading the mob knew what they were doing. The working trucks were too valuable to lose, and by approaching the base on foot it would cut down the damage the mines could inflict on the transports.
The .30-.06 propped against Troy’s shoulder had a pretty good range. He sighted one of the joggers as the moving mass of attackers began to pick up the pace. Troy put a round through his target’s throat just as the mob reached the main section of the minefield. Explosion after explosion tossed dirt and body parts into the air, but the people just kept coming, without even pausing to tend to their wounded.
In the bushes, Wade took a deep breath and made his peace with God. The fastest of the joggers had already reached the fence. He saw one of them toss something at the barbed wire, and then his world went white.
Troy watched in horror as his friend was blown apart, along with a large section of the fence. The attackers flowed through like ants. He fired off a last shot with the rifle, then tossed the weapon aside and tried to scurry down from the garage roof.
Geoff remained hidden the whole time. He waited in the bushes as the attackers ran past on both sides. They moved like men but they weren’t really human anymore. Their battle cries were the snarls of maddened dogs, and their skin was tinted yellow with sickness. He caught a glimpse of one’s eyes. There were no whites left, just a sickening bloodshot mass.
Geoff switched his AK-47 to full auto and stood up, spraying the backs of the fifteen or so that had made it by him. They crumpled like weeds before a scythe.
A rifle cracked and a bullet ripped through the back of Geoff’s shoulder. He whirled around and charged at the mob head-on, his rifle blazing and spitting empty shell casings. He made it a few steps before his bullet-ridden corpse toppled to the ground, rolling from its momentum.
Troy, down from the roof, saw the base’s opening—Jeremy was trying to come out. Troy shoved him back down. “Lock it!” he yelled.