He closed his eyes, unable to pull the trigger, unable to end his friend’s life, and unable to end the world’s problem. Karen’s death would only be a temporary solution, because the Murphy people would eventually find the spaceship.
He opened his eyes. Shooting Karen would only save her from the experiments, captivity, and torture. Dead or alive, she was a problem. They could still use her body to extract the alien contagion. He turned the gun toward the tanker truck.
Except for the minute amount of gas remaining in the tanker, the container was still filled with flammable fumes. Fumes were what caused gas tanks to explode, not the gasoline. Gasoline simply allowed for the burning. A spark from a bullet penetrating the metal tanker would ignite the fumes and cause quite an explosion. Maybe even enough to incinerate Karen, making her corpse unusable to the Murphy people. Or it might cause enough of a distraction for Morgan to get in and remove her body.
With tears falling down his cheeks, the wetness an almost foreign and forgotten sensation, Morgan came away from the scope, needing to see Karen with his own eyes. He wanted a final look at the woman to whom he had come to love, to call a friend, and in such a short amount of time. He wouldn’t need to peer through the scope to hit the tanker, the target almost too big to miss.
Tears slid down Morgan’s face as he wrapped his finger around the trigger. He had to concentrate, to almost force the finger to bend as it fought against his wishes, as if it had a mind of its own. Karen reached into her back pocket and pulled something out. What the hell was that? It wasn’t the phone-bomb.
Focusing on the object, using his superior vision, Morgan saw that Karen held a syringe. What the hell was she doing with a needle and where did she get it from? Was it a suicide needle, filled with some kind of toxin?
Morgan thought for a moment, then realized the only place she would’ve gotten such a thing was from Paul. Damn him. Paul and Karen must’ve worked out a plan so that she could kill herself if she was captured. Maybe it even counteracted the contagion, although Morgan doubted that.
He paused, taking his finger off of the trigger as Karen plunged the needle into her flesh, just above the waistline of her jeans.
He heard General Krueger order his soldiers to stop her, but it was too late. The contents of the syringe were already inside Karen.
Three guards grabbed her, knocking the used needle to the ground. Why hadn’t she told him about the needle and what was in it? Now, he could only watch, hoping the poison or whatever was in the syringe did its job quickly and painlessly. He thought about firing, sticking to his plan, but would wait and see what transpired.
Karen’s body went limp in the soldiers’ arms. The General was demanding to know what was in the syringe. One of the soldiers picked it up and went running into the barn, probably to have the trace amount of substance analyzed. Karen’s body began to convulse, shaking violently almost to the point that she was a blur. The guards holding her were thrown off; Karen spilled to the ground.
Krueger told his soldiers not to shoot. He called for a medic and to have a lab prepared immediately.
Morgan heard the words. They were going to take her inside. He couldn’t let that happen, and Karen was most likely dead or dying now anyway. Ready to pull the trigger and blow the tanker, his head suddenly exploded with agonizing pain.
Lying on his back, he looked down and saw his chest being ripped open by the priest who had changed him.
“No, not this again,” he yelled. The pain of his chest and organs being pulled apart was too much. Why was this man here again? He’d wanted to find him, but not like this. What was he doing? He’d come back to change Morgan, but not to make him human. The man had come back to make Morgan a vampire again, the one thing Morgan feared most. As the priest began the ritual, Morgan passed out into darkness, the agony too much for his soul to bear.
Chapter 59
Karen didn’t feel the needle puncture her flesh. She didn’t think about the possible side effects the solution might have on her. She only saw the end; that all was lost and whatever was in the needle would or wouldn’t help them complete the mission. She knew Morgan was nearby, but there were too many soldiers on the scene for him to do anything except get himself killed or captured.
After injecting the syringe’s contents into her body, two soldiers stepped in, grabbing her. They were too late. Karen wanted to laugh at them, but her entire body went limp, as if her bones suddenly dissolved. If the soldiers hadn’t been holding her she would’ve collapsed to the ground. Her body was numb. Sadness rolled over her. Had Paul truly given her a substance meant to enhance her abilities, or a suicide solution? Thinking about Paul, she wasn’t angry with him. He’d only done what he thought was the best thing: to end Karen’s life without having to suffer at the hands of The Murphy Unit.
Ready to accept her death, Karen’s body was suddenly riddled with icy pain, as if thousands of needles were penetrating her flesh. She tried to scream but couldn’t. As the pain worsened, she thought she’d eventually pass out and no longer be a part of the world, her worry gone.
Unsure of how long her state of agony lasted, it suddenly ceased.
She was on the ground; the guards that were holding her were on the ground too, and looking dazed.
Looking up, she saw a man, dressed differently than the other soldiers. He stood at the head of them as if he was the leader, barking orders, asking for a medic, and yelling for a lab to be ready. He demanded to know what was in the syringe and wanted to take Karen inside to a lab. She couldn’t let that happen.
She connected with the man, her eyes widening. It was General Krueger, the individual who ran The Murphy Unit. Her eyes became slits. She wanted to hurt the man, to find his most horrid fear and unleash it on the bastard.
Another nasty soul was standing next to Krueger. It was Agent McKlintock, the man responsible for Melanie’s death. Her anger flared. The agent locked eyes with her, as if caught in a trance. Immediately, without disconnecting from General Krueger, she connected with McKlintock.
If his face didn’t say it all, his mind did. Agent McKlintock was frightened of Karen. He’d never backed away from a fight, let alone a downed opponent, but something about her scared him. He began backing away, knowing that shooting her, something he desperately wanted to do, would lead to severe punishment from General Krueger. Karen grinned. McKlintock’s worry deepened.
Killing the Murphy people wasn’t enough. Karen hated them all, needing them to suffer before they died. And they needed to die from their worst fears.
Looking from soldier to soldier, Karen connected with multiple thoughts. She had somehow tapped into all them, even the ones she couldn’t see. She could understand and listen to each one as if her mind had split into numerous parts. She closed her eyes, no longer needing to see the enemy. Sifting through each head, she came upon Morgan.
He was farther away and should’ve been out of her range, but somehow she was able to read him. Paul’s serum had increased her abilities ten-fold, maybe more. Her face grimaced, her heart sinking at what she saw. Morgan had been about to send a bullet her way. He didn’t want her to be captured, to suffer, to give the enemy the ability to control the world. She would deal with that ugly truth later if they survived. For now, she needed to bring The Murphy Unit to its knees.
In unison, Karen dove into each person’s mind; Morgan included. She wasn’t able to pick and choose whom she affected. What she did to one, she did to all. Her power was too great to mete out in small doses.
Tapped into the minds of so many, she unleashed their fears like demons from Hell. Not a soldier was able to stand, all of them falling to their knees and begging for the nightmares to end. Karen held strong, continuing to pour on the pain; her body fueled by hate. Screams filled the countryside, bringing joy to her ears.
Entranced, having become a different person, Karen stood with her arms wide as if welcoming all before her. She continued reveling in the peoples’ agony, knowing that their pain was justified and that all the suffering they’d brought to others was coming full circle. The determination in her heart to keep up the onslaught until every man and woman was dead or begging to be killed far exceeded her body’s ability to maintain the energy necessary to complete the task. Many of the soldiers would remain fractured, their psyches forever damaged. Along with her energy, Karen’s anger began to fade, until she could no longer maintain her connections. She fell to the ground, her body drained of energy. Closing her eyes and unable to do more, she passed out.
***
Sometime later, minutes or hours she did not know, Karen awoke. Her head ached, but she remembered everything. At first, with her eyes still closed, she wondered if she had dreamed the whole thing, but with the images so vivid in her mind, she knew it was not so. Opening her eyes, she sat up and scanned the battlefield.
Many of the soldiers writhed on the ground in agony. A few men staggered about, their minds scrambled and unable to produce coherent thoughts. She’d gone to the darkest place possible, and while there, she had loved it.
Summoning the last of her strength, she reached into her pocket and grabbed two candy bars, hoping they would supply her with enough energy to complete the mission. With each swallow, she began to feel better. Taking a moment, she felt her mood change, becoming positive again.
Rising to her feet, Karen walked over to the filling valve, opened the lid, and dropped the phone-bomb inside. She paused. How many other men inside were like Paul? How many, if any at all, were innocent? Paul had said nothing about killing anyone he liked or worried about. He was the exception, she figured. This was the only way to ensure The Murphy Unit went away, forever.
She headed toward the gate leading out, before realizing that running was a better option, wanting to be as far from the place as possible. Not because of the bomb, but because the place was evil. She wanted to blame it for her actions, for her reveling in the pain of others, but the truth was she did it willingly, on her own.
She reached the gate, but it was closed; the fence still pulsing with electricity. How was she going to get out? She tried tapping into the two guards lying on the ground, but they were out cold. Then she remembered Hank. She couldn’t leave him. Spinning around, an idea came to her.
She ran to the truck and opened the passenger door, then went to Hank. He was out cold, his mind still reeling from what she had done. Luckily for her, the man was small.
She crouched down and was able to get him over her shoulder. Using a fireman’s carry, she hauled him to the truck, then set him down inside the cab. Making sure he was secure so as not to fall out of the cab, Karen ran around to the driver’s side and climbed in. She grabbed onto Hank’s shirt and jimmied him into a fully seated position and secured his seat belt.
Karen started the truck, hoping that what she was about to do would work. She pushed in the clutch and put the rig in first gear. Hitting the gas, she drove in a wide circle until the truck was facing the gate. She made sure that none of Hank’s body parts were touching metal then hit the gas. The engine growled, vibrating her bones. She managed to get the truck into second gear before crashing it into the gate. Removing her hands from the steering wheel and foot from the gas pedal, Karen let the truck smash through on its own thinking the rubber tires would be enough to insulate her and Hank from the electrical current.
Sparks flew and Karen’s ears filled with the wild buzz of electricity as the current lost its connection. The truck began to slow and Karen feared being stuck in the vehicle unable to escape without getting electrocuted to death. Without thinking, she hit the gas pedal to keep the rig moving forward, and sighed with relief when she wasn’t fried.
Clear of the fence, she drove onward, turning onto Walter Road, and eventually coming to where Paul waited with the Camaro. With Hank still passed out, she left him and the rig on the side of the road.
“You look like shit,” Paul told her.
Karen smiled, grateful that he was okay and seemingly unaffected by what had happened back at the compound. He must’ve been outside the range of her abilities.
“I feel like shit, too,” she said. “We need to get to Morgan. He’s somewhere in the woods back by the compound.”
“What happened?” Paul asked. “Why isn’t he here with you?”
“It’s a long story, and I’ll gladly explain it all later, but for now we need to reach him.”
A loud, ground-shaking explosion erupted over the land, followed by smaller but no-less impressive blasts. A bloom of fire and smoke shot into the air from the direction of the Murphy Compound. Karen and Paul looked at each other.
“It blew,” he said with a look of disbelief on his face. Then his expression changed, his gaping mouth becoming a smile. He grabbed Karen, hugging her.
“How…?” she began. “How could it have exploded? Unless Morgan…”
“He must’ve set it off,” Paul said. “He’s okay!”
“So it would appear.”
She smiled, her stomach in knots; the sensation of joy and pain spiraling around inside her. She remembered what she’d seen when she was inside Morgan’s mind. He had been about to kill her. She saw him crying, fighting against himself, hating himself, but doing it for the greater good, and for her.
“Karen,” Paul said, shaking her. “Snap out of it. We need to leave. The police and fire department are going to be on their way; hell, maybe even the National Guard. We can’t be here when they arrive. Morgan will find his way home.”
Karen came out of her daze. “You drive,” she told Paul, her mind in too much turmoil to concentrate. She was free now; truly free. The Murphy Unit was gone, blown sky-high. All of their research and data was destroyed. She thought she’d feel ecstatic, and in a way she did, but she needed to see Morgan. They had unfinished business. He had to know that she’d seen inside his mind, known what he was about to do. She felt a tinge of panic, wondering if she’d ever see him again or if he’d maybe taken off, too ashamed to face her. No, that wasn’t his style. He would come home, and when he did, he and Karen would talk.