Read Online Forged From Ash by Marcus Pelegrimas - Free Book Online
Authors: Marcus Pelegrimas
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the kids.”
Choking back what he wanted to say to that, Sayers touched his earpiece. “McCune, report.”
“Some Class Twos have been sniffing around,” McCune replied, “but we managed to steer them in another direction. They’ll probably be coming back. Other than that, all clear.”
“Anyone using the roads? Scavengers? Anyone at all not walking on four legs?”
“No, sir.”
“Stand by.” Glancing back and forth between all three of the others in the room with him, Sayers addressed them as if he’d absorbed the entire warehouse under his command. “This is an active zone, and I will not be standing in it any longer than necessary. You,” he said directly to Drea. “Where’s the room where you were kept?”
“The basement, just like I said,” Drea told him. “The entrance is hidden, but I can take you down there right now.”
“Ok. Show me how to get there, but then you and your friend will go back into your cells. I’ll get a lay of the land so when I return with a group better suited for an assault and extraction, we can carry it out as swiftly as possible.”
Drea was shaking her head before he could finish. “That won’t work. I’m telling you, these guys are crazy, and they’ll pull that switch. If the switch breaks, they’ll find some other way to take out the rest of us trapped downstairs and move on.”
“I won’t risk my entire unit until we’re better prepared. This was supposed to be a standard recon patrol followed by a more organized rescue.”
“He means he won’t risk his men to save Nymar,” Seth said.
“Why should we?” Rico asked.
“Because it’s not just Nymar you’d be saving,” Drea said. “For however many of us they’ve got locked up, those psycho Skinners have at least one or two humans stashed away. That means at least twenty to forty innocent people as well as the Nymar.”
The Lieutenant scowled as if he’d just swallowed a bug. “If these Skinners want to run their drug experiments on Nymar, why would they stash people away as well?”
Rico groaned and showed him the dead man’s cell phone. “Feeding time.”
“Aw, Christ.”
CHAPTER FOUR
250 feet beneath the English Channel
T he passenger car rolling along its subterranean tracks wasn’t even half full. Although Randolph had never felt the need to use the Chunnel to span the gap between the UK and France, he did so now as a way to gauge the local populace and their efforts to go about their daily lives. It was very telling, indeed.
In Folkestone, Kent, Randolph had strolled into a ticketing office that looked as if it might have been shut down for the season. The single agent working there was surprised to have a customer and flashed him a nervous smile that spoke less of an employee wishing a traveler well and more of someone taking a look at a man walking blindly to his own destruction. Such was the reason for his choice in transportation in the first place. In the midst of a widespread epidemic of rampaging beasts, volunteering to be trapped for over 31 miles in an underwater tube was a true test of a people’s sense of personal security.
There were many things to fear along that particular journey. If only one Half Breed managed to slip onto the train, that car would quickly turn into an abattoir. If one passenger had been infected and turned, the result would be the same. One Full Blood deciding to make a statement could stop a train in its tracks and end every life in that tunnel. There were also the numerous other bizarre species that had made themselves known since the borders between natural and supernatural had come crashing down.
Then there were the more mundane threats. If the train broke down, it would take longer for rescue crews to arrive. Food supplies for everything other than the shapeshifters were scarce. And of course there was a constant danger of the power going out. At the root of all those threats was a distinct lack of knowledge.
Monsters had
Choking back what he wanted to say to that, Sayers touched his earpiece. “McCune, report.”
“Some Class Twos have been sniffing around,” McCune replied, “but we managed to steer them in another direction. They’ll probably be coming back. Other than that, all clear.”
“Anyone using the roads? Scavengers? Anyone at all not walking on four legs?”
“No, sir.”
“Stand by.” Glancing back and forth between all three of the others in the room with him, Sayers addressed them as if he’d absorbed the entire warehouse under his command. “This is an active zone, and I will not be standing in it any longer than necessary. You,” he said directly to Drea. “Where’s the room where you were kept?”
“The basement, just like I said,” Drea told him. “The entrance is hidden, but I can take you down there right now.”
“Ok. Show me how to get there, but then you and your friend will go back into your cells. I’ll get a lay of the land so when I return with a group better suited for an assault and extraction, we can carry it out as swiftly as possible.”
Drea was shaking her head before he could finish. “That won’t work. I’m telling you, these guys are crazy, and they’ll pull that switch. If the switch breaks, they’ll find some other way to take out the rest of us trapped downstairs and move on.”
“I won’t risk my entire unit until we’re better prepared. This was supposed to be a standard recon patrol followed by a more organized rescue.”
“He means he won’t risk his men to save Nymar,” Seth said.
“Why should we?” Rico asked.
“Because it’s not just Nymar you’d be saving,” Drea said. “For however many of us they’ve got locked up, those psycho Skinners have at least one or two humans stashed away. That means at least twenty to forty innocent people as well as the Nymar.”
The Lieutenant scowled as if he’d just swallowed a bug. “If these Skinners want to run their drug experiments on Nymar, why would they stash people away as well?”
Rico groaned and showed him the dead man’s cell phone. “Feeding time.”
“Aw, Christ.”
CHAPTER FOUR
250 feet beneath the English Channel
T he passenger car rolling along its subterranean tracks wasn’t even half full. Although Randolph had never felt the need to use the Chunnel to span the gap between the UK and France, he did so now as a way to gauge the local populace and their efforts to go about their daily lives. It was very telling, indeed.
In Folkestone, Kent, Randolph had strolled into a ticketing office that looked as if it might have been shut down for the season. The single agent working there was surprised to have a customer and flashed him a nervous smile that spoke less of an employee wishing a traveler well and more of someone taking a look at a man walking blindly to his own destruction. Such was the reason for his choice in transportation in the first place. In the midst of a widespread epidemic of rampaging beasts, volunteering to be trapped for over 31 miles in an underwater tube was a true test of a people’s sense of personal security.
There were many things to fear along that particular journey. If only one Half Breed managed to slip onto the train, that car would quickly turn into an abattoir. If one passenger had been infected and turned, the result would be the same. One Full Blood deciding to make a statement could stop a train in its tracks and end every life in that tunnel. There were also the numerous other bizarre species that had made themselves known since the borders between natural and supernatural had come crashing down.
Then there were the more mundane threats. If the train broke down, it would take longer for rescue crews to arrive. Food supplies for everything other than the shapeshifters were scarce. And of course there was a constant danger of the power going out. At the root of all those threats was a distinct lack of knowledge.
Monsters had
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