The Extinction Trials(6)

“Blown.”

Maya’s head was pounding now, from the drugs or the exertion, she wasn’t sure. Or from her condition, whatever that was—and she had a very good idea of what that was.

“Request?” the voice asked, still betraying no emotion. Maya wondered if it was a real person or an AI. She held the armband as she moved to collect her clothes from the bathroom door.

“Immediate backup.”

“Routing request.”

“And I’m sick. I think they did something to me. I think I have the Genesis Virus.” She glanced at the columns of smoke. There were five now. Black clouds filling the sky. “What’s happening out there? The fires?”

“Probable cyberterror attack. We’re investigating—”

“It’s them. It’s connected. I think they tried to take me out before they launched this attack.”

“Noted.”

Maya was about to pull on her clothes but reconsidered. She eyed the man on the floor, his chest slowly rising and falling.

She was in no shape to run. Or fight. Without the injector, she wouldn’t have stood a chance against the man.

That left one option: hiding. But there was something she had to do first.

“I need you to check on my family,” Maya said. “My mom and sister live in the Oasis Park Building. In unit 1107.”

“Confirmed.”

At the window, she peered down. Seven auto ambulances were parked directly below. As she watched, one pulled away, lights flashing on.

The window didn’t open fully, but she could push it out slightly, just enough to slip the armband and her clothes through and drop them on top of an ambulance.

Her first choice was to leave the room and put some distance between her and whoever was coming. But that was too risky, and she wasn’t moving very well.

The bathroom was too exposed.

The bed was open below, offering no cover.

That left the closet. She opened the door and peered inside. It was empty, only a single metal rod and two hangers.

She pulled two sheets from the bed, wrapped one around herself, and draped the other over the rod. She slipped behind it and pulled the closet door closed.

Her legs were still shaky.

She pressed herself against the back wall and let herself slide down until she was lying on the floor. She arranged the sheet around her to cover her feet and head, then tucked her arms inside.

Beyond the closet, she heard the door to the patient room open.





Chapter Five





Owen held the girl tight and twisted, turning his back toward the roof looming below. Pain lanced through his chest when he crashed down. The girl flew from his arms as his vision faded to black.





When he came to, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He coughed hard, lungs aching. He forced his eyes open.

Smoke swirled around him like a thousand ghosts dancing around a funeral pyre.

Through the wisps, he caught a glimpse of his surroundings. He was still on the roof, lying on his side.

The girl was ten feet away.

Unmoving.

He watched her as he drew shallow, ragged breaths.

He waited, hoping, willing her to move.

He twisted his head, drawing a shooting pain from his neck.

He tried to take a deep breath, but it was useless. One or both of his lungs were collapsed. He didn’t have long.

With a shaking hand, he reached over to his arm panel, which was flashing wildly with alerts. He was about to activate the emergency beacon, but the suit had already done it. At least that part of the AI was still functioning.

A high-pitched alarm sounded from his external suit speakers. His helmet emitted a strobe light that blasted across the roof toward the girl.

Teeth gritted, he pushed off with his right arm and rolled onto his back, letting the light shine into the air.

He doubted anyone would see it. Smoke filled the sky like a thousand dark birds circling the city, diving down to feed on the burning, crumbling buildings.

He tried to slow his breathing, fighting to keep his eyes open. But his breaths grew tighter, as though he were breathing through a shrinking straw.

He tried to turn his head, but the pain stopped him. His head broke out in sweat and his chest burned through the pain, but he pushed, turning his head. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her roll over and look at him and for her to be okay.

He watched, but she still didn’t move.

A moment passed.

Black clouds tumbled over each other and piled up, a smoky ceiling lowering down onto him, a coffin door closing.

His breaths grew shorter until it felt like he couldn’t breathe at all, as though there was nothing to fill beyond his throat. Even when he forced his eyes open, there was darkness, splotches flowing together at the edges.

The suit was either torn or punctured because he tasted smoke in his mouth and nose now. The black clouds had engulfed the roof. He willed his vision to clear as he gazed through burning eyes, trying to find the girl, hoping to see her moving. He saw only a billowing black curtain.

Suddenly, the clouds parted, the black swatted away like demons reeling back. Owen couldn’t believe what he saw: a helicopter—with a human pilot. He hadn’t seen that in a long, long time.

Like his job, flying a helicopter was dangerous. They flew themselves now. Or most new ones did.