Kacen’s eyes widened. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Eugene backed away from the former Navy SEAL and shrugged. “Probably not. But it doesn’t feel right to just sit here and let the bad guys close in on us. Lord knows no one outside is going to help us.”
Kacen’s lips tightened into a thin line, and he nodded. “Could be worse. The U.S. Government cut ties with us, but they aren’t hunting us.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Eugene said as he turned and strode down the hallway. He followed the corridors away from the center of the building as he approached the large garage on the north side. Other than the sounds of his footsteps, the clinic was completely quiet. The mental health and physical trauma patients who normally filled the building had been sent home—without notice or explanation—to be with their families.
Eugene frowned. No one could have anticipated that an army of mind-controlled psychopaths would escape six separate maximum-security prisons across the Mid-Atlantic and converge on Hillcrest. If Eugene had anticipated the maneuver, he would have sent his wife as far away from Baltimore as possible.
But it was too late to do anything about it now. The ongoing assault on Hillcrest had been so severe that the security team barricaded all the windows and doors, turning the garage into a single choke point. Evacuating was out of the question; the refugees within the sprawling facility had no choice but to sit and wait for help to arrive. And based on the absolute silence from law enforcement and the Federal Government, they would be waiting for a very long time.
Hillcrest was designed to be a stand-alone weapons research facility and underground laboratory, even in the event of global war. It had been built with a nearly limitless supply of water and enough emergency rations to last through a nuclear fallout. If Washington D.C. was wiped off the face of the earth in a nuclear holocaust, the scientists in Hillcrest would survive and continue researching weapons that could be used to fight back.
At least, that was the idea. But no one had planned on hundreds or even thousands of suicidal soldiers laying siege to the government laboratory. The security team had the most advanced weapons in history at their disposal, but they weren’t invincible.
Eugene straightened his shoulders as he approached the steel door leading to the garage. He had read an article a few years ago which stated that the United States was home to the largest prison population in the world, including more than fifty thousand inmates serving life without parole. Borya Tabanov was using those inmates to raise a powerful, unified, and merciless army in his own image, and a substantial number of his soldiers were right here in Baltimore.
The steel door slid open on whisper-quiet ball bearings. Eugene stayed behind the shelter of the concrete walls for several seconds, then darted into the garage with his rifle at the low-ready. He hurried across the room and joined two members of his team behind a black SUV.
Nicole Hersch was staring down at a computer tablet with her brow furrowed. Hank Austin stood beside her, wiping beads of sweat from his brow every few seconds despite the cool air spilling through the open bay doors.
“What’s it look like out there?” Eugene said, looking over Nicole’s shoulder at the tablet. The screen had been split into six small boxes, each of which displayed the footage from surveillance cameras on the rooftop.
“Nothing is happening,” Nicole said. Her Israeli accent was more noticeable when she was stressed and it was obvious in her voice now. “Absolutely nothing. Bupkis. I haven’t seen or heard anything for the past hour.” She shook her head. “I don’t like it.”
“Do you think they’re regrouping—preparing for a more unified attack?”
“I do not think so. The microphones would have picked something up if they were moving troops around. But it’s quiet out there.”
Hank wiped his forehead again, and Eugene leaned forward to look at him. “You okay over there, New Guy?”
The young security team recruit nodded, but his face was several shades paler than usual. “I’m okay, sir. Just a bit on edge, that’s all.”
Nicole put a hand on Eugene’s arm and whispered in his ear. “Hank got his first two kills while you were asleep.”
Eugene’s chin dipped in acknowledgment, and he said, “Switch with me.” Leaning his shoulder away from the SUV, he let Nicole pass and eased into position beside Hank. “Take a knee, soldier.”
Hank obeyed, adjusting his rifle and his hips to face the rear of the SUV.
“Don’t worry about security right now,” Eugene said. “Nicole will let us know if she sees anything. Right now, I want you to pay attention to me.”
“Sir?” Hank said, turning his wide eyes toward his team leader. “Is…is something wrong?”
“There are a lot of things wrong right now, kid. And I’m not in a position to fix any of them. Except maybe one. You killed someone today, is that right?”
Hank swallowed. “Two men made it past the turrets. They were making a run for the door and I—” He wiped more sweat from his brow and closed his eyes. His lips moved for several seconds, but no words came.
“You what?” Eugene pressed, squaring off in front of Hank. “Shot them down? Listened to the last, wheezing breaths escaping their bodies while they bled out, writhing in pain and pissing their pants?”
Hank’s eyes snapped open, and a fresh bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “I…I…”
“Tell me something, Hank, and be honest. Do you hate me?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Do you hate every single woman and child taking shelter beneath our feet right now?”
Hank blinked twice. “I…don’t hate any of them, sir.”
“You don’t want to kill them? Shoot them in the face or beat them to death with a club?”
Hank’s jaw dropped. “Never.”
“No? Because that’s exactly what the men outside will do to them if they make it through our defenses. You are one of the few people in this building who know how to fire a weapon, much less hit a moving target. If you choose not to stand against the psychopaths outside our walls, you might as well take the elevator downstairs and start shooting, because none of us will make it out of here alive if you hesitate for a single moment. Do you understand?”
Hank stared down at the floor and nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. It’s just that I’ve, uh—”
“Never killed a man before? Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
“But sir, I did kill them. The bodies are right outside the door.”
“The things you killed were not men. They weren’t even human. Not anymore.” Eugene pinched his lips together for several seconds before continuing on. “The Afflicted are nothing but puppets, and Borya Tabanov is holding the strings. When he poisoned their brains, he killed everything they used to be; it doesn’t matter if they were good or bad, they can never go back to the way they were.” Eugene’s features hardened. “Do not ever underestimate them. They’re being controlled by a man who is more intelligent than you or I can even comprehend. But don’t waste your time feeling sorry for them, either. We’ve been backed into a corner, and they don’t deserve your pity any more than Borya Tabanov does. Got that?”