Obliteration by James S. Murray

Author:James S. Murray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Bowcut swallowed hard and raised her pistol skyward through the cloying humidity. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. Sure, it was warm, but nowhere near how humid the New York City subway was in August.

She leveled her laser’s sight above the heads of the supersoldiers. Squinted as the cloud of dust hit the group, moments before the front ranks of creatures would with devastating force. Hundreds of dark figures rapidly dropped down from their final leaps, letting out deafening screeches as they closed within a breath of first contact.

The early-evening sun shone down on the dusty air, surrounding the area in a thick orange haze. The adrenaline surging through her body had the effect of slowing the world down. It always did during the moments before action. Just like when she used to storm into a house as an NYPD SWAT team member.

But this time, her vision fogged in the haze and dust. Clear visibility was near impossible. She shielded her eyes with her left hand.

The soldiers all rocked on their heels, ready for action, unflappable. Intimidating obstacles the creatures had yet to meet. The first and last line of defense. Roux confidently prowled a few feet behind them. He looked poised, ready.

Immediately to her left, Munoz’s pistol shook in his hand. She couldn’t blame him. This situation had ripped all of them firmly outside their comfort zones, if such things even existed anymore in this world on the brink of obliteration.

Van Ness remained still, relaxed, with a neutral expression. Chin on his knuckle, cigar between his thin lips. Acting as if he were about to watch a game of croquet, rather than a battle to the death.

I just wish I knew what he did to be as confident in this reenactment of Sparta’s battle against Xerxes as he is. Even with two hundred extra Spartans . . .

Glints of the attacking creatures appeared through the haze, descending on the task force like a living hell. Deafening screeches closed in.

She wiped the grit away from her eyes and blinked, attempting to improve her vision.

Suddenly, eight thick laser beams shot from the cockpit roof of every C-130 and swept the ground beyond the supersoldiers. The shots cut down hundreds of monsters, but their advance continued unabated. Where creatures fell, other dark figures appeared in their place. A seemingly endless supply.

To her front, dozens of razor-sharp tails lashed down simultaneously toward every soldier. The collective action created a chilling whoosh, signaling that the battle had commenced in earnest.

Immediately, every supersoldier in Van Ness’ army sprang into action, moving at incredible speed, and Bowcut blinked once more, unsure of what she was seeing. In a flash, they had repositioned themselves to deal with each individual creature. It all seemed so absurd—posturing for the sake of posturing so that their deaths would look more impressive. But nobody from the Foundation betrayed that kind of body language. Roux stood tall, alert. Van Ness sat, smoking, eyes twinkling with excitement.

And the supersoldiers . .

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