Intended Extinction - Chapter 14

A low rumble pierced the silence. My eyes sprang open. Tara’s head rested on my shoulder, breathing slowly. I blinked multiple times and feared how long we had been asleep. The approaching sound was getting louder.

“Tara!” I whispered. She twitched and lifted her head.

“What’s going on?” she said, groggily. I was already to my feet.

“Something’s coming! Hurry! We’ve got to hide!” Fear and adrenaline electrified her.

I scooped up the MLM-GR and slung the strap around my shoulder. We spent no time hesitating as we weaved in and out of strewn cars, trying to keep low. I strained my eyes in the darkness, looking for a place to hide. As we progressed through a large opening in the street, I spotted an old abandoned building.

“Over here,” I whispered.

At the base of the giant skyscraper, a large broken window towered over us with boards spread across its crevasse. Some of them were smashed, which gave us a small entrance. I scrambled into the little hole first, setting my rifle down to help Tara in.

Seconds after we were safely inside, a torrential noise exploded into the night.

A motorcycle.

I protectively snatched the rifle and peered out through the wood using the scope. Sure enough, a sleek bullet bike revved its engine a few yards from where we had been sitting. An armored soldier sat atop his stallion, while two others approached the sidewalk from their own bikes.

“What are they doing?” Tara wondered, trembling with every breath.

I tapped the top of the scope and my vision instantly magnified. “I can’t hear them.”

One of the men was bent over the bench, searching for something. His hands were scanning the surfaces. He noticed something on the ground where I had been sitting. On one knee, he crouched, touching a shiny surface with two fingers. Then it dawned on me. My blood!

They exchanged glances and started pointing. In a dedicated formation, they spread out. Each soldier held his rifle up, locked into place, torchlight ablaze. They were hunting.

“Tara, they’re coming,” I whispered.

“What do we do?!” she asked, looking around in the darkness.

My mind tripped over itself. I wasn't about to let Tara die.

“We hide. C'mon.”

I checked their positions again before heading into the thick tar of the lobby. This end of Manhattan was filled with tons of rotting buildings and shops. I was sure we could lose them in such an enormous skyscraper.

Tara tried to sate her confusion and fear. “Mark, why are they following us?! We had nothing to do with anything!”

But it really didn’t matter why. Three hitmen were on our tail, ready to kill. I was past wondering if this was just some big misunderstanding.

The dimly lit foyer looked like it had been a bank at one time. Moonlight crept into the shadowy entryway through the boards, creating an eerie stencil upon the floor. Dusty desks and kiosks flooded the chamber, linked by spider webs.

“Wait.” I stopped and probed the barrel of my MLM.

“They’ve got lights on their rifles. Maybe this one—ah, there it is.” A white cone cut through the darkness with a redeeming presence.

Tara’s voice was hoarse as she spoke. “Let’s just go to the top—they wouldn’t spend all night checking every single room, would they?”

I didn’t want to fight anyone if I didn’t have to—Tara’s idea sounded perfect. How could they find us in this thing?

We zigzagged to the back of the foyer, looking for any sign of a staircase. The shaky light bounced off of every object, revealing elongated shadows and shades. We broke apart just enough to cover more ground.

“Here. Mark.” she whispered, her voice barely slicing the tense air.

I spun around and followed her down a small corridor.

“Oh no,” she mouthed.

I shined the torch upon a boarded up door next to a staircase symbol. Our escape was blocked. A dreadful realization overcame me. If they find us, we were gonna have to fight.

A large crunch came from the entrance of the foyer. I tapped my light off and we hid ourselves behind a teller’s desk. Adrenaline was spewing out of my ears and Tara was shaking beside me. More cracks and shattered wood echoed.

They were inside.

Lights from the entrance danced across the decrepit lobby. Footsteps thudded toward our location, fast and robotic.

I cupped a hand to Tara’s ear and spoke as low as I could.

“Tara, listen very carefully to me,” I began. “We can do this. We have the advantage. I’ve got enough ammo—but I need some eyes.”

All she could do was look forlorn.

“Do you see that hole where the cords are feeding through?” I gestured to the circle that gave entrance to the computer wires. “If you can tell me where they are, I can try and pick them off.”

She just stared at me. I knew she hated every second of this, but we were out of time.

She eventually nodded, the water in her eyes reflecting the invading lights, rebounding off the back wall. She quickly peered through the hole, wary of detection.

As still as a corpse, Tara observed their positions. Then, at once, she grabbed for my ear, pressed her soft lips to the skin and mumbled, “Three of them—two in the front, and one is still far back. One of them is at least twenty yards away, by the couches.”

My bones quivered. I held the rifle awkwardly in my hands, listening to the words Tara was saying. I took a deep breath and slowly got into position. I waited until she gave me the signal.

Her hand clamped upon my thigh.

In a fraction of a second, I sprang above the desk and aimed the rifle toward the couches. I followed the assassin’s beam of light and connected the trail.

Fwip. Fwip.

I heard a cry of pain, masked in scratchy vibrato. The other two soldiers swung their lights around, causing chaos within the foyer. Panting, I returned to my position. Tara was looking back at me, wide eyed.

I used my hands to direct her back to the cord hole. She resumed her station and peered out of the rat’s nest.

She came a second time, making sure her hand sealed the words within my ear. “Two more. Closest one is near the left pillar. Go!”

I steeled myself, poked my head out, and scanned the area. A bright light began to cross over my position and I ducked back under the table, cursing in my mind.

She held a hand to her mouth, trying not to gasp.
I caught my breath angrily and returned. I brought my rifle to my eye again, squared up, and fired.

“Ack!”

My target continued to gurgle, choking on his own blood. I must’ve hit him in the neck. What’s all that armor for anyways?

What was more absurd, I was actually hitting them. For some reason, these guys seemed a little sluggish, maybe even scared. Their outfits didn't suggest such an idea, but I was surprised by their lack of articulation.

Before I dropped, the final light glared upon me with rage.
Silenced bullets mutilated the desk’s exterior. I pushed Tara around the back of our nest and we narrowly escaped.

“Go! Move!” I said, realizing our chances of survival had just been eaten alive.

We scuttled to the next desk, hidden in the shade of a giant marble column. The assassin had us locked in his sights. Another barrage of well-aimed bullets dashed the marble pillar, sending chunks of glazed decoration to the floor. The gunfire rattled our skulls. He was probably trying to scare us out. He knew we weren’t prepared for war.

I shuffled around the edge to try and catch his position. Nothing moved. No light was visible. He had turned off his torch. Tara was shaking by my side, trying to get as low as possible. Everything slowed down. I looked at her, wondering if she would live through this night. Bullets continued to zip by, knocking wood chips and flakes of marble into the air.

This couldn’t be the end. Not yet. Images of my sister flashed in my mind. For the first time, I actually didn't want to die. The thought of leaving this world for good brought me to a shuddering state.

Then I felt a hard pinch. Tara was giving me a look of death.

The spell of denial broke. I kneeled out of cover and flicked my light on. I gasped as the soldier stood only two feet away from me. I pulled the trigger so hard I felt the spring stretch. Six rounds later, his staggering body fell to the floor followed by a plume of dust. Two bullet holes had punctured the ground only inches from my hip.

“Tara! He’s down!” I sort of laughed at the miracle before me.

I spun further out, hesitant to approach him. Then I realized Tara hadn’t answered me.

“Drop it.” The voice curdled my blood. The scrambled tone, the false reverb.

I turned to see a fourth guard holding Tara by her neck with a pistol to her skull.

“Okay! Please—”

“Now!”

I set the rifle upon the floor, torch still sending its beam toward their feet.

“Now,” he began softly, “you’re going to answer for the deaths of my—”

A horrifying, earsplitting gunshot echoed throughout the lobby. I covered my head and waited for death. I failed. Tara was gone. Her endearing face, her energetic personality, her determined spirit. Gone.

A few seconds passed without a second shot.
I heard light breathing. It wasn’t altered. I opened my eyes. My torch was glowing upon Tara’s limp body as she crawled away from the dead soldier. The light barely captured the black helmet that was blown halfway open with pieces of flesh and bone spilt upon the floor.

“Tara!” I snatched the rifle and scampered to her position.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. He’s dead. He’s—”

“It’s okay,” I cooed, pulling her into a hug.

The safety and warmth of our bodies comforted me. But the fact remained. Someone else had shot that soldier.

“Who—who did that?” she asked, breaking away.

“C’mon.”

I held the rifle close and sidled around the marble pillar. When I focused on the entrance, there was nothing but broken boards and debris.
I was startled by another sound coming from the couches. My light darted to the area and I saw one of the soldiers lying on his back, kicking around like a baby.

I stopped. Without confirmation on the mysterious shooter, I was reticent to do anything else. But there weren’t any more shots fired. It couldn’t have been him, could it? Was Tara the intended target? Or was someone trying to help us?

“He’s still alive," Tara spoke bravely, "let’s get some answers.”

“Tara, wait!” I jogged after her as she boldly moved toward the squirming soldier.

“Why are you following us?!” she screamed, about to kick him. “Why are you trying to kill us?!”

I restrained her while the body remained silent.

“Answer me!” she continued.

The man below me wiggled a little and astonishingly, he started to laugh. His cackle was muffled and filtered.

That ticked me off. “Hey!” I drove my foot into his side, causing him to squirm and groan in pain.

Then I saw where the bullet had pierced him. In the small space between his shoulder and chest pieces, a gaping hole issued blood like a gutter during sprinkler season. I knew we didn’t have much time before he bled out.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” I said. “Who are you people?!”

His laughing stopped and his arm moved. His right hand crossed, reaching for something. Out of sheer terror and reflex, I pulled the trigger.

Our only answers lied on the cold, dark floor. And I just killed him.

“Mark . . . you . . .” spoke Tara, barely understandable.

I dropped the rifle. Fear and trepidation started to take over. What had I done? Three people with individual lives and goals and agendas. Dead. All of them. All the emotions from earlier were starting to erupt from my core.

“M-Mark?”

Her voice was a pickaxe to my eardrums.

“Tara, what did I just do?” I asked, eyes on the floor. A headlight from his helmet brightened a tiny area around us. I couldn’t stop looking at his corpse.

“Mark, you were protecting us . . . it’s okay . . .”

I glanced up at her, seeing the apprehension in her eyes. They were shimmering with tears. She couldn’t have said anything to calm me down. I had just killed three people. She was never going to understand.

As soon as I felt her hand on mine, I exploded.

“No!” I screamed. “Tara, it’s not okay! There are people trying to murder us! They followed us all the way out here, just to kill us! Then what happens?! Another mysterious person helps us?! What the hell is going on?!” I ended my rant with a furious kick to a piece of wooden debris.

Tara remained silent, a fearful, hurt look upon her face.

“Slate’s probably dead," I continued. "There are probably more of them coming for us. Oh, and let’s not forget the damn virus that’s slowly killing our bodies! You were right, Tara. Our lives are truly screwed!”

“Mark,” she pleaded, “someone’s out there! Maybe . . . maybe they can help us know where to go?”

“No—there’s nowhere to go!” I yelled and found my back against a marble pillar. I slid down and put my head into my palms, stewing in my own shame and wrath.

Tara’s silence was just another spike on the mace. The more she stood there, the more I wanted to scream. She knew I wasn’t going to talk, so she walked toward the entrance like a wounded cat.

Before she left, she turned. “There’s always somewhere to go, Mark.” She padded over to a stray rifle and picked it up. “If you think there’s any hope out there, you’re wrong. The only thing that’s keeping me going is the idea of hope. I’m going to figure this out. Because it’s the only thing I have left to hold on to.”

She exhaled, wiped her eyes, and trudged away.