The Dying of the Light (Book 3): Beginning Read Free Page A

enter the bunker. He started to hand Monterrey the remote detonator for the charges, but the colonel shook his head.
    “No, you keep it. I want you and Cockrell to stay back and guard our exit.”
    Leland looked around at the other men and women. They were all about to head into what was undoubtedly the most dangerous place on the face of the Earth. If these thirteen badasses couldn’t handle whatever was in there… There was no time to think about that now. Or the creepy fact that there were exactly thirteen of them. “Yes, sir. We’ll take care of it, sir.”
    “Good. All right, everyone, let’s rock and roll. Machetes only until we can’t avoid it. I don’t want the whole damn bunker on our trail. Ready NVDs. We are at MOPP Three as of this moment.”
    The soldiers slid their rifles onto their backs, and drew their long-handled military machetes from hip sheaths. MOPP masks came out of their belt cases and Whiskey team put them on, then lowered the night-vision attachments they also wore.
    “You two,” Monterrey said, pointing at Martin and Simmons. “Get that door open all the way as fast as you can, then follow us. We’re headed for Operations. According to the specs, it’s on this level, a few hundred feet inside and to the right. Everybody ready?”
    “Yes, sir,” the soldiers chorused, their voices muffled somewhat by the masks. The techs each grabbed hold of the door’s edge. The door didn’t move at first, its twenty-year-old hinges squealing as the techs pulled on the edge. The colonel motioned to the two nearest men, and they threw their backs into it as well. They were finally able to fold the outward-swinging personnel door flat back against the main bunker doors.
    The colonel straightened up, raising his machete. “Let’s move, people!” There was a scream from inside the bunker, and a nightmare came barreling out of the dark. It almost ran down Monterrey as it raced for open ground. There was a loud crack, and the creature’s head exploded. The dirt near Leland’s feet kicked up as their covering sniper’s round disintegrated on impact.
    Leland ducked on instinct before he even realized what had happened, and he heard a soft, southern female voice in his earpiece. “Whiskey Actual, Whiskey Five.”
    “Go ahead, Fayde,” the colonel said, looking unfazed as he walked over to inspect the corpse. He waved at the others to cover the door.
    “Y’all be careful now,” she said. Leland pictured the tall, lithe blonde with the blue-grey eyes and complete lack of emotion. They called her the Ice Queen, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with her being one of the McMurdo refugees. “We’ve got this covered out here, sugar.”
    “Roger that, Whiskey Five. Out.”
    The corpse lay close by, and Leland couldn’t help but take a closer look. It was just like the briefing: a zombie, a walker, but a new and different type that they’d not seen before. This one didn’t appear to be rotting at all but was scarred and disfigured, the muscles under the skin bunched and twisted. It was wrong , in a crime-against-nature sort of way, and Leland wondered yet again why his team had drawn the short straw on this op.
    The colonel was a good leader, if kind of a jerk, and he could see the shocked looks on the faces of his soldiers. “All right, people, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover here, and we’re not going to do it standing around. The briefing from Bunker One was clear. We all know what we’re facing. Now let’s get to Operations and get that auto destruct set! Move out!” The colonel then lowered his own NVD, lifted his machete, and marched through the door into the darkness. The other soldiers followed him, leaving Cockrell and Leland behind. They looked at the empty darkness of the base beyond the door and at each other.
    Leland sighed, pulling down his NVD and readying his machete. Just in case, he checked his upper uniform pocket for the remote detonator, making sure it was still