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The Revered (The Earth Epsilon Wars, Book 3) Page 5
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Page 5
“Please enact your recognition sequence code,” replied the toneless electronic voice from within the console.
Wainwright leaned in closer to the wall, speaking each word in a slow and articulate manner as if she were translating another language. “Omega… Actinide… Carindale… Dormouse… Morningside.”
After a soft chime, the vault cracked open with a sharp hiss, iron hinges moaning as a thick vapor blanket cascaded across the floor to greet them.
Wainwright turned to Matt and held her hand out. “After you.”
As Matt waddled past her and stepped through, one of the big superhuman-looking guards gave him a sullen eye-fuck. Wainwright, Ally, Jensen, and Dan followed him in, the other two guards trailing closely behind.
It was a vaulted room of sealed chambers and airlocks, each one studded with computer terminals, centrifuges, and incubators. The subzero temperatures that preserved the huge servers and lab equipment immediately turned everyone’s breath into steam. Tiny prisms of frost were visible on the floor and ceiling, and in the center of the room was a large observation pen - a circular chamber encased in reinforced plexiglass.
Teeth chattering and hunched from the cold, Matt was nudged into the pen as another two guards carefully wheeled in a large metal box. One of the mechanized guards also entered the pen, his huge weapon at the ready. The armored suit’s gas-turbine spools whined with the heavy thud of each footstep. Matt could see the air around the guard was boiling due to the suit’s powerful exhaust vents, creating a steam trail as he moved. Understandably, none of them seemed to be at ease - especially from the terrible bashing of metal as the unseen Afflicted subject thrashed around inside the box.
Matt gulped when the guards turned and abruptly left the pen, sealing it shut behind them. He was now alone in here with this thing, hoping to God that whatever was securing it inside that box was strong enough to not break. He thought he could hear the clank of heavy chains, but it was hard to determine over the rabid shrieking.
Ally, Dan, and Jensen watched intently, with Wainwright standing beside them, calmly observing every facet like she was overseeing a surgical procedure.
One of the guards outside the pen turned to Wainwright.
She gave a nod of confirmation
The guard punched a button on a console next to him.
When the meshed gate on the side of the box lifted with a harsh snap, the bashing and screeching immediately stopped. There was a long moment of silence until it was broken by a low, guttural cackle.
Wainwright smiled upon hearing it. “Ah, there she is.”
Ally threw Wainwright a distasteful look. She said that as if she had just found a lost kitten. Ally turned her attention back to the pen. So far, the creature had not attacked. It remained hidden inside its box. Not a good sign. If it did not attack within the next few seconds, that could only mean one thing: she been duped by Cromwell yet again.
The very thought made her blood boil. Perhaps Cromwell would just keep sending her Infiltrators for his own sick amusement – each one more refined and harder to spot. Perhaps all this was nothing more than a form of torture designed to wear her down and break her mind. Out of the few remaining colonies scattered around the world still fighting against the Afflicted, why he had specifically chosen her, she did not yet fully understand. Nor did she particularly care to. Whatever the reason, she knew it was bad. Whatever her real father had done after leaving her on that humid morning in Kentucky, it was significant enough to summon Cromwell’s wrath all these years later.
There was a muted hush throughout the room. Nothing was happening.
Even Matt was surprised now. A few days ago, he had been hunted by an entire pack of these things, so why wasn’t this particular one interested in him? The idea he could somehow be an Infiltrator without knowing it made him feel faint with disgust. Matt had to get this creature to attack him. His heart began to thud louder in his ears, and a sharp stab of fear cleaved him as he willed himself forward, eyes narrowing as he peered into the cage.
A dark and grotty form churned inside. Heavy chains rattled. The glint of two black eyes was barely visible. The creature was secure, but there was a coarse sawing sound now, followed by a dull snapping.
“What’s it doing?” asked Ally, turning to see Wainwright’s brow riddled with concern.
Wainwright ignored her and spun to the guards. “Lights!”
The guard standing outside the pen flicked a switch and an overhead light snapped on inside the box.
A single fluorescent bulb fixed behind a pane of steel grating was enough to illuminate the creature with stark clarity. It appeared to be female, no older than twenty, deathly thin and pale, wearing only tattered rags that were soaked in its own blood. Clumps of stringy hair allowed only fleeting glimpses of prune-shrunken lips that were creased with glassy fangs. But what caused everyone in the room to collectively gasp, was the realization that it was just about done gnawing off its own hand at the wrist, freeing the one arm that was still chained to the wall.
“Close it!” Wainwright yelled to the guard. “Close it now!”
The guard went to punch the button, but the creature was already free of its confines, scuttling across the pen towards Matt in an unnatural motion, leaving a smeared trail of black arterial blood in its wake. Its breath did not cloud in the cold, nor did it appear to mind the fact that it was bleeding profusely from its chewed stump. It was being driven by a single purpose: to feed.
With his breath getting thicker, Matt backpedaled, his eyes straining past the horror in a desperate attempt to find something he could exploit. Something he could use against this creature. Its wound was significant, but the idea of getting too close while being restrained and unarmed was guaranteed to result in a gruesome death. Not that it mattered. He was about to experience that anyway. He could not help but see the cruel irony in all of this. “OK, I think you’ve proven your point,” he yelled to Wainwright. “Someone wanna shoot this thing now?” The creature gave a lethal hiss as Matt pressed his back against the curved pane of plexiglass.
Ally’s eyes were now bulging with languid terror. A wave of nausea suddenly rocked her as the crushing realization took root.
This man really was her father, and she was about to watch him die.
Her legs felt shuddery and weak like they could collapse underneath her at any moment.
Primed for an attack, the creature’s motion became a mad scrabble as it continued to advance on its cornered prey. Nostrils flaring, its hiss tapered into a feral snarl. As it hurled itself at Matt, a cluster of plasma rounds suddenly ran up the creature’s body with a deafening boom. It gave a defiant screech and crumpled to the ground, black blood already pooling around it like some oily miasma.
Matt stood there, heart still thundering in his ears while riding a blistering surge of adrenaline. That was way too close.
He pivoted to see Ally now standing by the entrance to the pen, the blood drained from her face, her teary eyes staring at him vacantly. She went to say something, but nothing came out, except a faint, almost weary rasp.
Matt kept his eyes on her and raised his bound wrists. “Mind getting me out of these now?”
Before Ally could even consider acting on that, Wainwright stormed into the pen with her guards in tow. She gave Matt a cold, almost clinical once-over as if she were already deciding where to make the first incision. She then turned to Ally with a tight smile. “I want him.”
Ally blinked out of her stupor and swiveled to Wainwright. “What?”
“A chipped human asset? This is unprecedented. There’s enough R&D to last us years. Decades. Think of what we could learn. Think of the advancements.”
“He’s not for sale,” Ally retorted, her tone now hardening.
“I’ll pay you triple,” she said with a playful grin that was designed to disarm and seduce. “Heck, I’ll even throw in an extra box of that powdered chocolate you can’t seem to get enough of.”
“This w
as never part of our deal, Wainwright.”
Wainwright’s insouciant manner slipped a little, just enough for Ally to notice. It was clear she wasn’t used to being told no. “I’m sorry, I was unaware there even was a deal.”
Ally’s fists tightened. She was growing tired of Wainwright’s bullshit. “Then perhaps I need to refresh your memory.”
When Matt stepped forward to try and intervene, the guards snapped their weapons up at him. “Hey, easy! I just want to talk—”
Wainwright raised her finger to silence him. Her expression had shifted to a look that was almost pitying of him. “Oh, you will get your chance to talk. That much, I can promise you.”
Ally set her jaw upon hearing that. While the Renewal owed them nothing, a deal was a deal. This was betrayal - and if there was one thing she really loathed; it was people who went back on their word. This was the second time her trust in the Renewal had failed her. Assuming she somehow survived this, there would not be a third.
Dan and Jensen shared uneasy looks. They could both feel their guts sinking with each passing second. Wainwright was known for her ruthlessness when dealing with other colonies and independent militias. With no gambit, neither had a clue how they were going to squirm out of this one.
Wainwright gave Ally a bleak smile and turned to the nearest guard. “Put him in a holding cage outside. We’ll prep him later.”
Ally could only watch as the guard jammed the tip of his rifle into the small of Matt’s back and nudged him forward.
Pleased with her new acquisition, Wainwright turned to Ally and shook her head like a parent disappointed by an errant child. “This could have gone a lot easier if you weren’t so stubborn, Ally.”
Ally had no choice but to play the only hand she had left. “He’s my father.”
Wainwright knew this was an attempt to stall her. “I fail to see how that changes anything.”
“It changes everything.”
“I don’t think so. But nice try.”
“Wainwright, he’s the last remaining survivor of the Emissary program. You can’t kill him.”
Point scored. Wainwright’s eyes narrowed as she folded her arms, waiting for Ally to continue. The Emissary program? That was something she not expecting to hear.
“I didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s true. That’s why I brought him here. I had to be certain.”
Wainwright held her silence until she turned to the guard who was marching Matt out of the pen. “Wait.” She pivoted back to Ally, her eyes boring into her, searching for any hint of deception. “The Emissary program failed.”
“It was always going to fail,” added Matt. That earned him a surprised look from Wainwright - one she was unable to mask, despite her skepticism. He had now her attention, so he continued. “We never had a chance. Cromwell knew about Rossiter before we did.”
“How?” she responded sharply.
“Time travel. The Wraith beat us to it. Cromwell went back decades, perhaps even centuries before us to position his pieces on the chessboard. He wanted Rossiter to create the Scourge. All he had to do then was take him from us and alter the strain.” Matt gestured to the dead abomination on the ground next to them. “That thing right there is the end result.”
“That makes no sense. Cromwell wanted this world—”
“No, the Combine did. Not Cromwell. He couldn’t give a damn about this planet. He’s just using it as his own personal petri dish. His endgame is to destroy the Combine. And to do that, he needs an army. One that only he can control.” Again, Matt motioned to the dead creature next to them. “This is him working to achieve that.”
“What makes you think the Afflicted are under his control?”
“At this point, it’s just a theory. But given how the Wraith can control their assets, it seems entirely plausible he would have devised a way to control them.”
Wainwright’s frown deepened as she gave him a brief, questioning look.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to digest. But I know what his plan is. Infecting the entire population of Earth was simply the first phase. There’s more to come. A lot more.”
“I’m sorry, but how in the fresh hell do you know all this?” Dan interjected with a sneer.
Matt glanced at him. “Long story.”
“Yeah, I bet it is,” Dan said with a derisive snort. “Maybe it’s because you’re also an asset.” He shot Ally an annoyed look. “This is just another one of Cromwell’s lies. I can’t believe you bought it.” He then glanced at the guards surrounding them. “No way am I getting myself killed over this asshole.”
Matt ignored the jab and returned to Wainwright. Her skeptical manner had still not entirely deflated. “I’m telling you; Cromwell isn’t finished. This is only the beginning.”
“Bullshit! Cromwell’s gone!” Dan snapped. “He disappeared years ago.”
“Just because you can’t see him, doesn’t mean he’s not here,” Matt retorted. “The Wraith might retreat, but they never disappear for good. If anything, he’s simply gone underground.”
Wainwright’s eyebrows rose as another question formed in her mind. “It’s an intriguing story, I’ll give you that. But it still doesn’t explain how you ended up here with a shard fused to your neck.”
“Again, how do you think?”
“Time travel?” Wainwright made a cursory effort not to laugh. “This is all very entertaining, but I doubt Cromwell would—”
“I know where Rossiter’s last known location is,” Matt blurted out, cutting her off.
“As do I. And it has long since been destroyed.”
“Not the lab. Someplace else. After we were compromised, Cromwell executed a coup against Combine loyalists. He took Rossiter to an estate outside of D.C. You get me a map; I can show you exactly where it is. Better yet, I can take you there.”
Matt saw Wainwright’s eyes glitter with intrigue, but she had not been entirely won over yet. “Are you saying you know what happened to Rossiter? Because that would be some extremely valuable information.”
“I only know his last known location.”
“What would you hope to find there?”
“Maybe some of his original data. A hidden sample. A clue to Cromwell’s whereabouts… I’m not entirely sure.”
“Not entirely sure? A second ago, you were telling me you knew Cromwell’s ultimate plan. I’m going to be honest; you’re not filling me with much confidence.”
Matt gave a nonchalant, seen-it-all shrug. “You know, you’re right. Chances are there’s nothing there left to find. But look around, Wainwright. Do you really think you’re making any progress against the Afflicted?”
Wainwright’s eyes visibly bristled with anger upon hearing that. “The fuck did you just say to me?”
The guards knew when Wainwright swore it was a precursor to heads rolling. They gripped their weapons tighter, expecting they would be ordered to start shooting at any moment.
“You know exactly what I’m saying. You send me out there, whatever happens, I’m expendable. No loss to you, whatsoever,” Matt ventured. “Whether you believe me or not, I’ve been in this war longer than any of you have - and as long as Cromwell is still alive, I’m bound by duty to stop him.” His expression turned contrite when his eyes fell on his daughter. “That’s why I made the terrible decision all those years ago to leave my family and join the Emissary program. I wanted to stop this future from ever happening. Now that it has, I need to find a way to undo it.”
After a long moment of tense silence, Wainwright’s anger dissipated. She felt the earnestness and pain in his words. It forced her to look away, her mind churning furiously. Then, for a fleeting moment, her stern eyes softened. “Therein lies the problem,” she said almost remorsefully. “I’m afraid there may not be a way to undo any of this. What has already been done is done.”
The guards all shared uneasy looks. Wainwright had devoted her entire life to the Renewal and its cause, but this was the first time they’d
ever heard their leader talk with such doubt.
Matt held Wainwright’s eyes and stepped closer to her, holding his bound wrists out like a peace offering. “That may be the case, but at this point in time, what’s the harm in trying?”
Wainwright was no longer able to mask her curious expression. She cracked a wan smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met an optimist.”
Matt blew out an exhausted sigh. “Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s been a long time since I’ve eaten anything.”
Seven
Matt sat alone at a large stainless-steel table in the mess hall, gorging on a bowl of synthetic food. He could hear the wind relentlessly howling outside as he looked around, taking in the minimalism of the room. Much like the world outside, the architecture inside this place was lifeless and sterile. Every feature was either constructed out of scuffed plexiglass or white plastic.
The meal they had given him was some type of meaty broth. Except it wasn’t real meat, it was a variety of protein and calcium extracts that had been turned into a murky-looking stew. It tasted horrible, like a cross between curdled milk and raw tofu. But Matt was way too famished to care. He just needed something to fill his barren stomach.
After Wainwright’s guards unshackled him, they led him up into the commissary, passing a major food processing room. It was there Matt caught a glimpse of their long-term food supplies, which appeared to have grown wild and broken free of their storage vats, overrunning parts of the room’s interior like vines of custard-yellow moss.
Matt looked up as Wainwright swished into the commissary and took a seat opposite him. “I trust your meal is sufficient?”
He nodded, grimacing through a rubbery clump of stew he had no choice but to swallow in front of her. “Very hearty, thank you.” Before going back to his bowl, he noticed some of the guards and technicians were standing around talking about him in hushed voices.