The Kill Order
Page 35

Alec twitched and his arms jerked outward, but then he clenched his fists and brought them back down, his face strained as if he’d fought off another attack with willpower alone. Clarity filled his eyes and he looked at Mark for a long moment. It was as if all of the past year—the memories, the horrors, even the laughs—passed quickly between them, and Mark wondered if either of them would ever be so grounded again. Madness waited in the wings.
The soldier gave a quick nod, and the two of them headed for the door.
*
They reached the cockpit without seeing any sign of Trina or Deedee. Mark had hoped they’d be awake—maybe by some miracle Trina would be better, laughing, remembering. It was a foolish thought.
As Alec got to work on the controls, Mark looked outside. A trace of dawn had brightened the eastern sky, the darkness fading into light purple over the houses and trees in the distance. Most of the stars had winked out; the sun would make its grand entrance within the hour. He had a heavy feeling that the day would end with everything changed forever.
“I’m okay for a bit,” Alec said, standing back to scan the instruments and screens of the control panel. “Why don’t you go check on the girls. We’ll be off the ground in a jiffy. We’ll do some flyovers and see what we see.”
Mark nodded and patted him on the back, a ridiculous gesture but all he could think of to do. He was worried about his friend. He turned on his flashlight and left the cockpit, entering the short passage that led to the barracks room where he’d left Trina, resting peacefully in a bunk with Deedee.
Mark was almost to the door of the barracks when he heard a strange scratching noise above him, like rats scurrying across the panels of the ceiling. Then there was the distinct sound of a man giggling, only feet over his head. A shudder of horror passed through him. He ran a few steps down the hall and spun around, pressing his back against the wall. He looked up at the ceiling, shining the flashlight over the panels, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
He held his breath and listened.
Something was up there, moving back and forth, almost rhythmically.
“Hey!” Mark shouted. “Who …” His question died when he realized he hadn’t checked on Trina yet. If someone, or something, had snuck its way onto the Berg …
He ran to the barracks door and flung it open, frantically shining his light on the bunk where he’d last seen Trina sleeping. For one split second his heart stalled—the bunk was empty. It was just rumpled sheets and a blanket. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trina on the floor, Deedee sitting right next to her. They were holding hands, and both of them had sheer terror on their faces.
“What?” Mark asked. “What happened?”
Deedee pointed a shaking finger toward the ceiling. “The boogie man’s up there.” She paused, visibly shaking—a sight that tore at Mark’s heart. “And he brought his friends.”
CHAPTER 64
She’d barely said the last word when the Berg burst into life and launched off the ground. The floor tilted and Mark stumbled and fell onto the cot, then pushed himself to his feet.
“Just stay there,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He wasn’t going to hesitate this time.
He ran from the barracks into the hallway, piercing the darkness with his flashlight as he headed straight for the cockpit. He thought he heard another giggle coming from the ceiling in the same spot as before, and horrible thoughts popped into his mind: bloodthirsty men and women, infected and insane, leaping through the panels once he disappeared, attacking the girls he’d left behind. But he had no choice, and he’d be quick. Besides, if there were people up there, they’d waited this long without doing anything. Chances were he had some time.
He bolted into the cockpit, where Alec was manning the controls. He was sweaty and flushed, and concentrating hard on what he was doing.
“Where’s the Transvice?” Mark shouted.
Alec spun around, fear crossing his face. But Mark didn’t waste time with explanations—the man’s weapon was propped up against the wall next to him. Mark ran to it, grabbed it and threw the strap around his shoulder, then made sure it was powered up and started back toward the barracks. Toward Trina and Deedee.
“Turn some lights on out here!” he yelled back to Alec as he slipped out of the cockpit—he’d dropped the flashlight at some point and the world was pitch-dark. Conserving power and fuel no longer meant a thing. He’d only gone a few feet down the corridor before the dim lights flashed on and illuminated his path, though shadows clung to the walls.
Sweat dripped into his eyes as he pounded down the corridor. It felt as if the heat inside the Berg had skyrocketed to a thousand degrees. The sweltering air combined with his shot nerves—the razor’s edge of madness that cut into his psyche—put him on the brink of losing it. He just had to hold on for a little while longer. With every bit of effort he could muster, he focused only on the next seconds of his life.
He crossed under the place he’d heard the giggling. Even as he did, a cackle came from above. It was low and throaty, as ominous a thing as he could imagine. But the panel remained intact. He tore through the door of the barracks and saw with relief that Trina and Deedee were still huddled together on the floor.
He was just moving toward them when three sections of the ceiling suddenly collapsed, breaking apart in a crunch of plaster and metal. Several bodies fell among the pieces, crashing on top of the two girls. Deedee screamed.
Mark raised his weapon and rushed forward, not daring to shoot but ready to fight.
Three people were scrambling to their feet, shoving Deedee and Trina as if they were simply objects in their way. A man and two women. They were laughing hysterically, leaping from foot to foot and throwing their arms around like wild apes. Mark reached the man and swung the butt of his Transvice into the side of his head. The man cried out and crumpled to the floor. Mark used his momentum to turn his body and kick one of the women away from his friends. She shrieked and toppled onto the nearest cot and he aimed the Transvice, pulling the trigger. A bolt of white heat hit her and she grayed, then dissipated into the air.
She’d barely disappeared when the other woman tackled him from the side—they both landed on the floor, and for what felt like the hundredth time in the past week, the air was knocked from his lungs. He twisted onto his back, pulling her on top of him as she struggled to rip the Transvice out of his hands.
He saw Trina and Deedee standing up, pressed against the wall, watching helplessly. Mark knew the old Trina would’ve joined in and helped somehow. She would have attacked the woman and probably beaten her senseless. But this new Trina, this sick Trina, just stood there like a frightened little girl. Clutching Deedee in her arms.
Mark grunted and kept fighting the woman. He heard a groan, looked over to see the man he’d knocked out crawling to his hands and knees. The guy’s eyes were glued on Mark, full of hatred and madness. He bared his teeth and growled.
The man came at him on all fours, as if he had transformed into some kind of rabid animal. He pushed off the ground and leaped into the struggle between Mark and the woman like a lion attacking its prey. He crashed into the woman and the two were suddenly locked in an embrace. They fell off Mark, rolling across the floor as if playing some kind of game. Mark was still gasping for breath but he turned onto his side, then his stomach. Got his knees under him. His elbows. Pushed up. He leaned against a cot and finally was able to stand.
He calmly aimed the Transvice at the man, then the woman, taking two clean shots. The noise shook the air like thunder, and the people were no more.
Mark heard his own breathing, heavy and strained. He glanced wearily over at Trina and Deedee, still huddled against the wall. It was close as to which of them looked more terrified.
“Sorry you had to see that,” Mark mumbled, unable to find anything else to say. “Come on. Let’s get to the cockpit. We’re taking …” He’d almost said taking Deedee, but he’d caught himself. He didn’t know how Trina might respond. “We’re going somewhere safe,” he finished.
A burst of deep laughing seemed to come from everywhere at once, the same horrible sound as before. It was followed by a hitched series of coughs that eased back into the haunted fit of giggling. To Mark, nothing sounded more as though it belonged inside a mental hospital, and goose bumps broke out across his skin despite the heat. Trina was staring at the floor, her gaze so empty that Mark felt another pang of loss. He stepped closer to the girls and reached out a hand. The man hidden in the rafters continued to chuckle.
“We can do this,” he said. “All you have to do is take my hand and walk with me. It won’t be long before we’re all … safe.” He didn’t mean to falter on the last word.
Deedee raised her scarred arm and squeezed his middle finger, held on to it. This seemed to trigger some reaction in Trina, and she shifted away from the wall and put her weight fully on her feet. Her eyes didn’t stray from that spot on the floor, and she was still clutching Deedee’s shoulders with both hands. But it looked like she’d follow.
“Good,” Mark whispered. “We’re going to ignore that poor guy up there and walk nice and calm to the cockpit. Let’s go.”
He turned and started moving before anything changed in Trina’s countenance. Tugging on Deedee’s hand, he walked quickly toward the door of the barracks. A glance behind him showed Trina still attached to the girl as if they’d been glued together. There was the pitter-patter of footsteps above them, which almost made him stop, but he steeled his nerves and kept going.
They went through the door and into the hallway—they had nowhere else to go. It was even darker out there, the emergency lights just a pale glowing line running along the upper edges of the walls. After quick looks left and right, Mark headed off in the direction of the cockpit. He’d barely taken a step when there was a burst of sound and movement.
And then a thud directly above him. A fit of laughter. The sudden appearance of a man’s face and arms, hanging upside down right in front of him. A cry escaped Mark’s lips before he could help it, and shock froze him solid.
In his stupor, he was unable to react in time—the man reached out and tore the Transvice out of his hands, breaking the strap in the process. Mark grabbed for it, but the stranger had been as quick as a striking snake.
Then he disappeared back into the rafters above, laughing all the while. His thumping footsteps and cackles faded as he ran to another part of the ship.
CHAPTER 65
Mark didn’t think he could get up to the ceiling and climb after the man—and he could be hiding anywhere, with instant and certain death pointed right at whoever came his way.
“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. How could he have let the guy rip the thing out of his hands like that? It’d happened twice in less than a day. And now there was a crazy person in the ship somewhere with the most dangerous handheld weapon ever invented.
“Come on,” he said tightly, then pulled Deedee and Trina along behind him as he started running down the hall. He looked up every few seconds, wondering if the man would suddenly appear, hanging down from the ceiling, ready to shoot. He also strained to listen for any sound other than the pounding of their own footsteps.
When they reached the cockpit the first thing Mark noticed was Alec slumped over the controls, his head buried in his arms.
“Alec!” Mark let go of Deedee’s hand and rushed toward the man. But Alec shot straight up before Mark reached him, startling him so much he almost skidded across the floor. “Whoa. You okay?”
He didn’t look it. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his skin pale and sweaty. “I’m … I’m … hanging … in there.”
“You’re the only one who knows how to fly this thing.” Mark felt terrible for saying it—selfish. But he looked out the windows and saw the foothills above Asheville slowly moving past below them. “I mean … I don’t …”
“Save your breath, kid. I know the stakes. I’m trying to find where the PFC is headquartered in the city. I just needed a rest.”
Mark broke the news. “There’s a crazy dude on the ship. He stole the Transvice.”
Alec didn’t say anything. Merely screwed up his face, which had become alarmingly flushed. He looked as if he might literally burst at any second.
“Calm down,” Mark said slowly. “I’ll get it back. You just find the place.”
“I … will,” the older man said through clenched teeth. “I need … to show you some of the controls soon.”
“I’m scared,” Deedee said, standing there with her hand in Trina’s.
Mark saw that her eyes were focused on the windows—the poor thing had probably never been in a Berg before. He expected Trina to comfort the girl, but she did nothing. Just stood staring blankly at the floor again.
“Look, it’s going to be okay,” Mark said, squatting down to Deedee’s height. He’d barely done it when the ship bounced in a pocket of air. Deedee screamed again, and this time she tore her hand free from Trina and ran, bolting out of the cockpit before anyone could grab her.
“Hey!” Mark shouted, already on the move. A flash of her being vaporized almost stilled his heart. He sprinted after the girl, just catching sight of her rounding the bend of the hallway outside the cockpit. In the direction of the cargo room. “Come back!”
But she was gone. Mark sped after her, but he’d only gone a few frantic steps when he caught sight of her again, standing completely still, staring at something in front of her. Mark didn’t stop until he reached Deedee’s side and saw what had her attention.