Extinction Edge

-11-

Heavy footsteps, unlike the padded shoes the nurses wore, woke Beckham the next morning. Someone in uniform was coming to visit him.

He sat up and brushed the hair from his eyes. It was getting long now, long enough that he would have caught shit if his CO was still around to yell at him.

Kate slept curled up in a chair next to his bed. She had said she was only going to stay a few minutes, that she had work to do, but she’d slept through the night. He reached over to rouse her as the footfalls stopped outside the door.

Kate stirred and her eyes flickered open. “Crap. What time is it?” She looked for a clock and yawned, stretching. Then she slumped back in her chair. “Great. Wasted hours I won’t get back.” She rubbed her eyes and gave him a quick look. “How do you feel?”

“I’m good,” Beckham lied. His ribs were still tender, but the swelling was down. His injuries were mostly superficial, nothing serious. If it weren’t for the doctor’s orders for bed rest, he would have already been back in the barracks.

Someone knocked on the door. He heard muffled voices on the other side, familiar but hard to place.

“It’s open,” Beckham said. He shifted in his bed, stiffening the best he could.

Lieutenant Colonel Jensen and Major Smith strolled into the room. They removed their berets and tucked them under their arms.

“Dr. Lovato,” Jensen said, offering a smile.

“Good morning,” she replied.

Jensen examined Beckham. “Looks like you had one hell of a trip.”

“Oh, this.” Beckham ran a hand over his body. “I’ve been beat up way worse.”

Jensen didn’t laugh. “I wish I was here with good news, but I’m not.”

Beckham sat up further when he saw the stern look on the lieutenant colonel’s face.

“As you know, the countdown to Operation Liberty continues. We’re twenty-eight hours out. I’m still hoping you are able to lead a team—”

“Are you crazy?” Kate said. She stood and positioned herself directly in front of the bed.

“Kate, please, sit down. I’m fine,” Beckham assured her.

She stood her ground.

“Really, Kate. It’s okay,” Beckham said.

Kate glanced back at Beckham for a moment and then uncrossed her arms.

Jensen waited for her to sit and then continued. “Before we discuss your condition, I need to know if there’s anything you can tell me about the Variants.”

The pain of Beckham’s injuries flared as flashbacks to the creature that had put him in the hospital swooped into his thoughts. Shaking his head, he turned to the window to watch the play of sunlight on the distant waves. The crimson rays seemed divine, captivating in a way. It was still hard to believe that the world was gone.

“I’m not sure how to explain it, Sir,” Beckham said. He turned to the lieutenant colonel. “The Variants are unpredictable. When we got to Bragg, they were suicidal. But as we were leaving, we encountered some sort of a leader, a man that seemed to be in control of the pack. I saw something similar in New York, but this was different. This was a coordinated attack. They flanked us.”

Major Smith swore under his breath.

Jensen scratched his mustache. “What else did you see?”

“Smoke seems to screw with their senses. Besides that, not much. You already know it’s hard to take them down. Headshots seem to do the trick, but I saw one of ‘em that had about a dozen holes in it. Still kept coming.”

“Holy shit,” Smith said.

“Anything else?” Jensen asked.

“No, Sir,” Beckham replied.

“All right,” Jensen said. “The doctors said you’re good to go. I’m going to hold a briefing with the other team leads in two hours at the CIC.”

“I’ll be there,” Beckham said. He refrained from looking at Kate, but he heard her scoff in annoyance.

“You aren’t seriously considering—”

An enthusiastic voice in the doorway cut her off. “Guys!”

Beckham couldn’t help but smile as Riley guided his wheelchair through the door.

“Hey, Boss. You look like shit, too!” He laughed and then grunted as the chair caught against the doorjamb. “Dammit, I hate this thing,” he said, fighting with the wheels to make it into the room. Kate walked over to help him.

“The stupid nurse said I couldn’t see you earlier,” Riley said. He wheeled himself over to Beckham’s bed.

“Since when did you listen to women?” Beckham asked.

“She’s cute and I was trying to be on my best behavior,” Riley said. “Not many girls to pick from at the end of the world, you know.”

Beckham shook his head and changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”

Riley shrugged. “Doctor said I won’t be back on my feet for a while.” He chuckled. “But at least I don’t look like you.”

“You should have seen the guy that did this to me. He was bigger than Horn.”

The room grew silent at the mention of their friend. Kate put a hand on Beckham’s shoulder. Riley bowed his head.

“I heard about Horn’s wife. But you guys were able to rescue his girls. That’s a miracle in itself. Tell you the truth, I figured everyone would be dead at Bragg,” Riley said.

“There wasn’t much left.”

Riley glanced up. “Jinx and Chow made it, though, right?”

“They saved our asses.”

“Small victories, I guess,” Riley said. “So what’s next?”

“Operation Liberty,” Beckham said.

Kate backpedaled from the bed. Her jaw tightened, her lips a solid line of disapproval as she retreated to the door. She was giving him the distance he needed, but it was clear she wasn’t happy about it.

“Wish I could go with you,” Riley said.

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

A dense fog crawled across Plum Island. Beckham stood outside the medical facility with Kate by his side, watching the haze slowly consume the base. The horizon threatened yet another storm.

Beckham acknowledged the two guards outside with a nod. Grabbing the handrails, he made his way cautiously down the steps and into the knee-deep mist. He squinted at three soldiers approaching in the distance. They walked at a brisk yet graceful pace, side by side, the muzzles of their rifles bobbing up and down over their shoulders. As they got closer, he saw the thin outline of their body armor and sculpted muscles that reflected constant training.

“Who are they?” Kate asked.

Beckham smiled. “My men.”

Even in the fog, he knew the slender, defined frame of the man on the left belonged to Chow, and that the beefy man in the middle was Horn. The man on the right had to be Jinx.

The three emerged from the gray and formed a line, shoulder to shoulder. Horn stepped out and saluted. “Sir.”

Beckham wasn’t sure how to respond. The gesture was completely unexpected from Horn, not to mention unnecessary. Beckham recalled Riley’s laughter from earlier and figured a little humor might do them all some good. Snapping his heels together, he returned the salute then dropped his hand quickly.

“All right, knock it off now,” Beckham said.

Horn laughed and held out a fist. “Good to see you standing.”

“Luck,” Beckham said, bumping his knuckles against Horn’s. “I think mine’s got to run out soon.”

“Horn saved your sorry ass,” Jinx said.

Beckham looked at the men in turn, remembering all of their fallen brothers; then he reached forward and wrapped his arms around Horn, patting his back before pulling away. “Thanks again, bro.” He leaned forward and put his forehead against his friend’s.

“I always got your back,” Horn said gruffly.

Chow snapped his fingers. “We better get moving. Briefing in a few.”

The operators walked in silence through the fog. The CIC was packed by the time they arrived. Officers and enlisted huddled around the war table, staring at crinkled maps. Lieutenant Colonel Jensen stepped away from the observation window and made his way through the swollen crowd.

“Let’s get started,” he said and paused, scanning the assembled men and women.

He addressed a tall and slender Marine with the build of a marathoner. “Sergeant Peters, you’ve got Team Alpha.” The man nodded and made eye contact with his nearby team.

The next Marine Jensen called looked more like a linebacker, with broad shoulders. “Sergeant Rodriguez, you’ve got Bravo.” He scrutinized the stern faces, as if looking for someone in particular. “Where’s Chipper?” Jensen asked.

“Here, sir,” a short Army Ranger said. He pushed his way from the edge of the group.

“You’ve got Team Charlie.”

The man nodded and swept a hand over his bald head.

Then Jensen’s eyes found Beckham. “Master Sergeant, you have Team Delta.”

He turned to his second and said, “All right, everyone. Major Smith will provide a SITREP.”

Smith bent over the table and flattened several maps. Grabbing a remote, he clicked on an overhead projector. An image of a map formed on the west wall. “This is New York City, all five boroughs.” Smith used a laser pen to identify the five main blots. “Recon teams and satellite imagery show these locations are where the Variants seem to be gathering.”

“I’m going to be straight up with you,” interrupted Jensen. “We don’t believe those numbers are accurate. According to intel from Command, the Variants are grouped in the areas in red,” said Jensen.

Smith nodded and pointed to one of the marked areas. “Reports estimate one to two thousand at each of these hotspots, and your mission is to help set up a forward operating base and then assist 1^st Platoon in clearing the streets.”

Jensen waited for the info to sink in. In a firm voice, he added, “I believe Command is wrong, and Dr. Lovato is going to tell you why.”

Without hesitation, she moved up to the table. “Gentleman, as Lieutenant Colonel Jensen and Major Smith have already stated, these red blotches represent the known Variant populations. General Kennor believes those are the only Variants left. If that’s the case, then you won’t have much of a problem taking back New York. But I’m here to tell you that I think General Kennor is wrong.” Kate’s eyes scanned the group of soldiers, her gaze catching Beckham’s for a moment before she continued.

He nodded, admiring the way she handled herself in a room full of military personnel.

“And not by just a little,” Kate said. “I believe he’s wrong by a whole hell of a lot.”

Kate pulled up a chair to the table’s monitor and plugged in a thumb drive. Keying in a few commands, she transferred the information to the projector and pointed to the wall. “As you can see, the clusters ballooned in these areas.

“My projections show the Variant populations number somewhere between one and two million, not one to two thousand,” Kate continued. “A far cry from Command’s calculations.”

Nervous chatter broke out all around them. Beckham tensed his muscles. How could Command be so far off? If Kate was right, then New York was lost. There was simply no way a company of Marines and strike teams could take back the city.

Jensen raised a hand. “Everyone keep quiet. Let the doctor finish.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m not sure exactly where the Variants have vanished to, but I do know that the creatures are changing, evolving. They are growing more intelligent. Some of them even seem to be dominant, leading packs and groups. They’re faster, stronger, and can heal quicker than anyone in this room. Even you, Master Sergeant Beckham,” Kate said with a half smile.

The subsequent chuckles were short lived. The grim truth of Kate’s projections lingered on everyone’s mind. If true, the numbers were daunting. They were facing a battle that the military had no way of winning. Beckham discreetly sized up the men in front of him. Some of them had seen action, fighting insurgents in the War on Terror. But most of them had never gone up against a Variant. And this time they wouldn’t face just a couple hundred. There were millions. The idea was madness—even if the enemy was armed with only teeth and claws.

“Thank you, Dr. Lovato,” Jensen said. “I’ve asked Command to delay this mission until we know where the Variants are hiding. They denied that request. In just over twenty-four hours, we are expected to provide four teams to help set up a forward operating base and remove any Variant threat from the area. Refusing to do so would amount to desertion, but frankly a court martial is the least of your worries. I’ve decided that I will take full responsibility for Plum Island’s actions. For that reason I’m making this a volunteer mission. I hope the leads will stay, but I can’t force you.”

There were a few whispers, but Jensen spoke right over them, his voice swelling until it filled the whole room. “The fate of our species hangs in the balance. And there’s no doubt in my mind each and every one of us will play an important role in the fight to save our comrades, our country, and our world.”

Goose bumps rippled across Beckham’s skin. The speech reminded him of the ones Lieutenant Colonel Clinton had given before ordering Team Ghost into the pits of hell across the world. He hadn’t trusted Jensen up until this point. Now he was ready to follow the man into war.

Beckham wedged his way next to Kate. “Sir, may I say a few words?”

“Absolutely,” Jensen replied.

“Horn and I have fought these things in Atlanta, Niantic, New York, and Fort Bragg. I’ve seen what they are capable of. They move like animals and are possessed with one purpose: to kill. I’ve watched them turn on each other, and I’ve watched them organize. They are unpredictable and extremely dangerous.” Beckham raised a battered brow as he scanned the skeptical sea of faces. “These are not sick human beings. They are not zombies. These are deadly predators. And they will kill you without a single thought.”

“I hope you all heard Master Sergeant Beckham,” Jensen cut in. “He’s the only one of us to lead a team against the Variant threat. You can see he’s come back alive, if not a bit worse for wear.”

Beckham saw the look in Kate’s eyes and knew that she wanted to protest, but he had a job to do. He knew that she understood that, too.

“I’m on board, sir,” Beckham said to Jensen.

“Me too,” Horn said, patting Beckham on the back.

“I’m in,” Jinx said.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Chow added.

One by one, confident voices called out, each warrior stepping up to support Operation Liberty. But deep down Beckham knew they were volunteering for a mission that they had little hope of winning.

That night, while the rest of the base was prepping for war, Beckham snuck through the personnel quarters wing of Building 1. Getting past the guards was the easy part. They didn’t ask questions when they saw his rank. His business was none of their concern, and the men let him pass with simple nods.

He moved from door to door, searching for Kate’s room. Halfway down the hall, a woman stepped out of the restroom in a towel, her hair wrapped up in a glistening black bun. They nearly collided.

“I’m sorry,” Beckham said. She shied away, clearly terrified. He’d been so focused on finding Kate that he’d forgotten his injuries. He probably looked like Rocky Balboa after fifteen rounds with Apollo Creed.

“Um, excuse me. What exactly are you doing here? This is for science officers and support staff,” the woman said.

Beckham felt his cheeks flare. “I’m looking for Kate. Dr. Lovato.”

The woman angled her eyes down the hallway. “She’s in room fifteen.” She caught a glimpse of the color rising in his cheeks and then smiled. Giving him a once-over, she chuckled and continued down the opposite corridor.

Embarrassed, Beckham let out an exasperated sigh. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. Sneaking in to see Kate had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. The chemistry he shared with her was undeniable. But maybe this was all wrong; maybe they should stay friends.

Go with your gut, he thought, eyeing the numbers on the doors. His gut said yes.

He found her door and raised a battered hand. He wasn’t even sure if she would be there, considering she pretty much lived in the lab, but a few seconds later the door creaked open and Kate peeked out.

“Reed? What are you doing here?”

Beckham couldn’t see her face in the darkness. But there was something about her tone, a trace of nervousness. Apprehension.

Fuck, he thought, maybe he shouldn’t have shown up like this. He looked terrible.

“Reed?” Kate asked again. She stepped into the hallway in a pair of exercise shorts and a small white tee.

Beckham took a sidelong glance to ensure the woman in the towel wasn’t eavesdropping. He considered making up an excuse, some pretense of official business, but came up with nothing. “Thought I would… um…”

Kate’s mouth quirked in a half smile. The banks of LEDs in the panels above spread a soft glow on her olive skin. Without thinking he reached forward and pulled her chin toward his, kissing her softly. A small moan escaped her lips when he pulled away.

And then she dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

They kissed on their way to her bed, tossing clothes on the floor before crashing on the small twin mattress. Beckham ignored the pain shooting through his ribs. He didn’t care. All that mattered now was Kate.

She ran her finger in a circular motion around a bruise on his chest, kissing the tender skin. Her muscular legs confirmed she didn’t spend all of her time in the lab. She had told him she was a runner, but he never imagined that her lab coat covered such a gorgeous body. She was slender and fit, but also had natural curves. His eyes slid along those curves, savoring every inch of her.

“You’re beautiful,” Beckham whispered. “No… You’re gorgeous.”

Kate didn’t shy away from his gaze. Confidence radiated from her blue eyes—eyes that scanned him with the same intensity as his own.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Kate, but I want you to know that—”

She put a finger on his lips. “You don’t need to say anything.”

Staring down at her, he realized how long he’d gone without the touch of a woman. Team Ghost spent the better part of the last year in Afghanistan. Yet he wasn’t nervous. He burned with desire, but he also felt calm, at peace, as if he’d found a quiet place at the center of a raging storm. His lips found her collarbone and then her breasts, sending Kate’s body arching in pleasure. Maneuvering on the narrow mattress was hell, but he managed to blaze a trail of kisses along her taut stomach. He paused, looking up into her eyes, questioning one last time.

“I want you,” she said. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. Wrapping her arms around his muscular triceps, she pulled him to her. For hours they lost themselves in each other, their sweaty bodies moving under the radiant moonlight. Nothing else mattered, Thoughts of broken promises and the post-apocalyptic world that surrounded Plum Island were forgotten. His pulse raced as adrenaline flooded his system. He made love the way he fought, with an all-consuming passion.

His movements became more powerful, faster and intense. Kate wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. Her moans grew louder. Beckham buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck. Their bodies shook and trembled, and Beckham locked eyes with Kate. He had never had time for love in the past. Women had come and gone, but his promise to protect his men and his country had always been his top priority. It was funny how the end of the world changed a person. Looking down at Kate, he made another promise.

“When this is all over, I will come back for you.”

She looked toward the window, gasping for breath. “You don’t have to go.”

Beckham slid his body off hers and rolled on his side, propping his head up with a hand. “I do, Kate. You know I have to.”

“I know,” Kate said, resting her head on his chest. “But I’m going to hold you to that promise. And if you break it, I’m coming after you.”

Beckham smiled. “Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from Dr. Kate Lovato.”