The Tide: Breakwater (Tide Series Book 2) (27 page)

“Okay, I’ve got something. The only way back to the stairs is straight down the hallway.”

“Right,” Geraldo said.

“And if we go out there now, those crazies will come after us,” Navid continued. “So, I need you all to hear me out for a second. Let’s get them into the conference room. While they’re all in there, we escape through this door.” He pointed to the office door.

“Just how do you propose we get all those monsters into the conference room?” James asked.

“They want
us
,” Navid said, “so let’s give them what they want.”

-30-

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D
om ran while firing at the Goliath’s chest. Rounds punched into bulging muscle where the grenade had shattered its skeletal body armor. But that only slowed the beast down, jerking it from side to side, its flesh absorbing the rounds. Wailing in a voice that assaulted Dom’s ears, the monster continued its charge.

Several swifter Skulls dodged under the lumbering beast and ran toward Dom, the Hunters, and the midshipmen. One of these Skulls leapt, and Dom hammered the stock of his rifle into its face. The creature fell, and the Goliath trampled it. The small Skull’s body crunched under its heavy footsteps.

The Hunters and Dom brought down the other Skulls, but the barrage of bullets did nothing to sway the Goliath. It forced its way forward. Its spikes and blades tore into the ceiling and knocked down paintings as it went. Dom watched the beast tear off a placard announcing they’d entered Luce Hall. They were almost out of the dorm complex and into the field near the basin.

“Bravo, what’s the status on the boats?” Dom said, gasping.

He could barely hear Renee’s reply over the behemoth’s bellows. “Alpha, we’re loading people as fast as we can. Got about half of the survivors on boats, but only four boats to sea.”

“Faster!” Dom said between breaths. “Got to go faster!”

He twisted and fired another salvo at the Goliath. The monster flinched, turning its head away. For a second, he thought he’d gotten a shot through the thing’s eye and ended it. The glimmer of hope that he’d delivered a fatal blow dissipated as it hurtled forward and let out a guttural roar. One of its bent ribs caught on a doorway and snapped off, tearing with it a chunk of flesh.

The midshipmen ahead spilled out of Luce and ran toward the field. A brief image flashed through his mind of the slaughter that would unfold if Dom led the Goliath and the pack of Skulls directly to the survivors.

“Bravo, keep loading. Alpha, on me!”

The Hunters obeyed, turning away from the midshipmen exiting the building, and stayed on Dom. They just needed to buy Bravo time. They didn’t have to kill the Goliath, just—

The Goliath swiped at a squawking smaller Skull. He grabbed it by the back of its neck and tossed it.

The rattle of bones whistled over Dom’s head as he ducked, and the creature smashed against the wall with a crunch. Dom raised his rifle and fired a short burst at the Goliath.

“Come and get it, you fuck!” Dom shouted.

The beast roared, staring in his direction. Dom shut the exit door the midshipmen had run out of.

Jenna shouldered her rifle and fired at the mammoth creature, but her shots were no more effective than Dom’s. Owen and Spencer let loose a salvo to the same effect. The rounds chipped away at its armor, but what they needed was a solid eyeshot that would hit soft tissue and, with luck, the brain.

“Head up the stairs!” Dom pointed to a stairwell.

The Hunters sprinted, and Dom fired another blast to ensure he had the Goliath’s full attention. The monster ran past the closed exit door, hot on Dom’s trail. He hoped the normal-sized Skulls would follow and not stray out that door and straight into Bravo and the survivors. But with the Goliath’s bellows and its bulky frame blocking the view, Dom couldn’t see whether or not his plan was working.

The Hunters hit the stairs and started taking the steps two, then three at a time. Dom ran after with the Goliath following. The beast made it to the bottom of the stairs. Its hulking frame and the horns and hooks jutting out of its body got it stuck on the support beams surrounding the entrance to the stairwell. Smaller, swifter Skulls leapt and climbed around the banisters.

The Hunters opened up on the gaining Skulls. Round casings pinged off the stairs. Gore sprayed against the walls, and the creatures’ howls echoed in the space. All the while the Goliath struggled, caught in place by its own bulk.

“Keep moving!” Dom yelled. He pulled the pin on another grenade and lobbed it. “Frag out!”

He and the Hunters made it up another flight. Fire and fragments of Skulls and marble flew through the air. The scent of explosives and charred flesh wafted up. Yet more of the creatures leapt and pounded up the destroyed stairs. At least half a dozen Skulls were gaining on the Hunters when they reached the fourth floor.

A Skull with patches of short-cropped hair and bumpy horns along its scalp pounced at Dom. He juked, and the Skull hit the floor hard. Dom took advantage of the creature’s momentary confusion and smashed the stock of his rifle into the back of its head with a sickening crack. He jumped past the injured beast.

“Where the fuck are we going?” Jenna called.

“Keep running!” Dom had no concrete plan. He only knew he couldn’t lead the Skulls to the survivors and Bravo. “
Huntress
, do you copy?”

“Copy, Alpha,” Chao responded. “The fuck is going on?”

“No time to explain.” Dom pointed down the hall and directed the Hunters to take a left at the intersection.

A roar sounded behind them. The Goliath had somehow freed itself and made it to the top of the stairs. But this hall was narrower than the ground floor. Progress for the huge creature became more difficult as it struggled to free the hulking shoulder blades and spikes from the walls and ceiling where they kept getting stuck. It roared in frustration, and its plight gave the Hunters a precious few extra seconds.

“How the hell do we get to the roof?” Dom asked Chao. “We’re in Luce Hall now.”

“Oh, God,” Chao said. “Give me a minute to find the architect—”

“We don’t have a fucking minute!”

“Working on it!”

“Oh shit!” Spencer yelled. He skidded to a halt, and Dom, Jenna, and Owen stopped beside him. “Contacts dead ahead!”

Ahead of them, a dozen Skulls charged. Several wore the white, short-sleeved, button-down shirts characteristic of the Academy’s midshipmen uniforms. Those shirts were now covered in dried blood and ripped where the creatures’ sharp growths poked through the fabric. Dom and the Hunters let loose a barrage of gunfire. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, and the sound of barking rifles became deafening. Blood poured from the first several Skulls knocked back, their bodies a tangled mess.

Yet more creatures surged up the stairs on the opposite end of the hall to replace those that had fallen. Their claws clacked along the floor and their bones rattled. Dom’s pulse pounded in his ears, his heart hammered against his ribcage, and adrenaline poured through him.

In front of them, Skulls ran at the hail of gunfire. Behind them, the Goliath tore through the building, drawing ever closer, its angry bellows and footsteps resonating. The Hunters were surrounded by the beasts with nowhere to go and no way to possibly fight them all off.

Dom had tried to save the survivors and Bravo, but now he might have led Alpha to their end.

But he wouldn’t give up. No matter what, he was determined to save his team.

“Grenades out!” Dom yelled.

Jenna, Spencer, and Owen tossed their grenades into the oncoming Skulls, both in front and behind. Dom shouldered through a door, and his team followed. Explosions rumbled through the hall. Dom’s ears rang with an unholy pain at the deafening din. He slammed the door shut and found himself in some kind of shared office space.

He knew his Hunters would have been similarly deafened, so he grabbed each of their shoulders, one at a time, and signaled for them to barricade the door with the heavy oak desks and bookcases lining the room. They worked quickly to build the extra layer of protection. Dom had no doubt the Goliath had survived their last round of grenade blasts and knew the feeble defenses wouldn’t last once the enormous Skull made it to the doorway. If they were lucky, it would buy them enough time for Chao to tell them how to get out of there.

The ringing in Dom’s ears began to subside, and he heard a voice calling for him. “Alpha, do you read? Dom, are you there? Come on, guys!”

“Copy, Chao. Alpha here,” Dom replied. His voice still sounded muddled to his recovering hearing.

“I recovered the blueprints. There’s roof access from the service elevator shaft. Elevator doesn’t go all the way up, but there’s a ladder that does.”

“Great, where is it?”

“Hold on.”

The door and barricade shook as the Skulls slammed against it. Glass shattered when they broke through the thin, wire-reinforced window in the door. Their spindly arms stuck through, and claws raked the furniture set up to keep them out. Jenna, Owen, and Spencer aimed their rifles at the blockade. Dom saw the sweat trickling across their skin and the worried expressions on their faces.

“Elevator’s near the south stairwell,” Chao said.

“Shit. Copy.” Back where they’d come from. Straight past the Goliath and the horde of Skulls in its wake. “Any other ways to the roof?”

A sharp crack sounded. The wood of the doorframe split and bowed inward.

“Negative,” Chao said.

“Sure?”

“Affirmative. Don’t see any other way.”

“Charlie, this is Alpha,” Dom said into his throat mic.

“Copy, Chief,” Miguel said.

“I need you above Luce Hall. We need a quick exit.”

“Roger that. Ride’s on its way.”

One of the bookcases toppled sideways, and the desks shook.

“What now?” Jenna asked.

Dom searched the office space as if it held the answer to her question. He spotted the windows on the far side. He sprinted to one and smashed through it with the stock of his rifle. Craning his neck out, he scanned the wall. But only the lips of the neighboring window ledges stuck out. There was no easy way to scale the exterior to the roof—and the only way down was a fall.

Maybe there was something they could use as a makeshift grappling hook and cable. He took one quick glance around the room before realizing the next best escape.

“Up!” Dom called. He stepped onto one of the desks, still shuddering as the Skulls roiled to get in. He could smell them, the distinct fermentation stink of the nanobacteria chewing through their flesh and remodeling their bones, like a bad batch of home-brewed beer spiced with sediment from a landfill.

Dom ignored the odor assaulting his nostrils. He reached up and slid a ceiling tile to the side. “Get up!”

Jenna hopped on the desk first. Dom cupped his hands under one of her feet and boosted her up.

“Plenty of solid support beams up here!” she said.

Jenna reached from the ceiling to guide Spencer up next, followed by Owen. Dom strapped his rifle over his back, and the three other Hunters helped hoist him into the space. He replaced the ceiling tile and then pulled out a flashlight to pierce the darkness. The Hunters crouched, their helmets brushing against the rafters. Below, the Skulls’ cries and their banging against the door grew louder.

“That way!” Dom shone the flashlight toward the other end of the cramped space. It illuminated floating dust motes and a lattice of support beams and crossbeams, punctuated by pipes and ventilation shafts. “Quiet as we can.”

Jenna, Owen, and Spencer clicked on their flashlights. An enormous crash sounded from below. The splintering of wood and the din of falling bookcases rattled through the ceiling. There was no turning back now.

They made their way slowly toward the far end of the crawlspace. Dom took measured, crouched steps, ensuring his boots fell only on solid footing. He tried to control his heavy breathing while fighting to catch his breath from their flight. Any mistake now could attract the Skulls.

The team made their way forward. Cobwebs stuck to Dom’s face. He tried to ignore the mass of writhing creatures separated from him by only a few flimsy ceiling tiles. But it wasn’t an easy task. The wails of the monsters continued.

Jenna climbed through a V-shaped lattice, carefully guiding herself on the solid support beams. She helped Owen and Spencer over, and Dom followed last. He wiped a bead of sweat from his face and pointed his flashlight toward a metal panel a few yards from their position. It appeared to be in the right location leading to the service elevator.

The Hunters nodded to acknowledge Dom’s direction, and they started along the rafters again. Something slammed against the wall below them. The impact sent dust falling from rafters. Owen lost his footing, and one boot slipped off a support beam. He flailed his arms and tried to grab a rafter. Jenna leaned forward, one hand outstretched to steady him, and Spencer reached to help. Jenna managed to grab Owen before he fell.

But Spencer lost his grip on his rifle. The weapon smacked into the ceiling tile. Dom’s heart leapt into his throat as he watched, waiting to see the gun break through the flimsy tile. It held, but the Hunters all froze. Dom didn’t notice any changes in the growls and shrieks of the Skulls below to make him think that they’d heard the gun drop.

Clamminess coated the insides of his gloves as he pulled his rifle up. Spencer tentatively reached out to retrieve his dropped gun. A massive fist tore through the tile and wrapped its claws around the weapon. The Goliath’s hand drew back, and pieces of the ceiling tile fell away.

A swathe of Skulls tensed below. Their bloodshot eyes all gazed toward the fresh opening, and their muscles coiled. The Goliath’s deep voice thundered, and the Skulls frenzied, jumping and climbing for the hole in the ceiling.

“Go, go, go!” Dom yelled.

The Hunters moved as fast as they could toward the service elevator. A rumbling growl from below preceded another upward punch from the Goliath. This time its claws snagged on Spencer’s fatigues. The Hunter started to fall backward, but Dom grabbed him. Jenna took out a knife and cut the fabric around where the Goliath’s claws had pierced Spencer’s jacket. The fist pulled away with nothing but the scrap of fabric in its grip.

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