She went to Sammy’s station, trying to keep focused. “How many teams have delivered their anthrax samples?”
“So far, six,” Sammy said. “I’m seeing a slight reduction in network signals. You think it’s working?”
“We won’t know for sure unless we can kill off more of the webbing. The infection isn’t instantaneous, so it’s no surprise that it’s taking a while.” Kate looked at the computer. “Can you quantify the damage we’ve done to the network?”
“Keep in mind, the situation is evolving, but as the bacteria propagates, so too does the signal attenuation. I’m noticing a drop off in the overall number of signals at about five percent right now.”
“That’s not much at all.”
“No, it isn’t,” Sammy said.
“We only have a couple hours until dawn and the New Gods show,” Kate said.
The color drained from Sammy’s face. Kate had a feeling she knew what Sammy was thinking.
“If at least a few more of those teams don’t get their injections into the webbing soon, it’s not going to make much of a difference for us, is it?” Kate asked.
“Correct,” Sammy said coldly.
Kate clenched her jaw out of anger. She had truly thought their work would have a more substantial impact tonight, but it seemed their efforts might not really affect the network until after the fighting was over.
Sammy looked like she was about to say something, but the radio next to her computer buzzed to life.
“Doctor Lovato, this is Commander Jacobs. We’re confirming Recon Omega is reporting another successful injection. They’re now returning home.”
“Good,” Kate replied. “Can I have a sitrep on the other teams?”
“Recon Tango and Recon Oscar are confirmed KIA. November and Kilo are MIA, but last transmissions indicate probable KIA. We lost contact with Recon Delta and Echo. Sigma is still out there, but ran into hostiles. They’ve been radio silent since.”
Kate clenched her jaw again at the mention of Sigma. That was Horn and Timothy’s team.
She shook away her fear and decided the only thing she could do right now was believe they were still alive. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing them both.
“That’s not enough,” Sammy whispered. “It won’t cause a collapse if we don’t get at least another bolus injected.”
Kate stared at the map of the planned injection sites on the monitor. The dot representing Recon Sigma’s target glowed red.
“There’s still hope,” Kate said. “If Sigma is out there, they’ll come through.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Sammy said, sounding dejected.
“Horn and Timothy know what they’re doing. They have to survive. We’ve just got to trust them.”
She said it as much to convince herself as Sammy.
Another chirping computer pulled Kate’s attention away from Sammy’s computer, and she rushed over to the engineering team.
“Is it the thunder again?” she asked.
Stepping between two of the engineers, she watched spikes of seismic activity scrolling across the screen.
“No,” one of the engineers replied. “This is happening across the northwest side of Houston. If I’m reading this right, we’ve got at least five separate groups of Variants traveling through the tunnels and making new ones.”
“Inform command,” Kate said.
The engineer nodded to another man who picked up the radio.
Kate looked at a map of Houston and Galveston that showed the epicenters of the detected seismic activity. One of these points was moving close to the Woodlands, toward the northwest of Houston right where Timothy and Horn were supposed to be.
The second wave of the New Gods’ attack was coming, and they were right in the path.
***
“Recon Sigma, this is Command,” a communications officer said over Timothy’s radio. “Seismic activity confirmed near your position. Variants headed your way, ETA ten mikes.”
“Sigma One, copy,” Horn replied.
“Be advised, you’re the last team in the field. We’re all counting on you.”
“Copy,” Horn said.
Timothy caught his gaze.
“You heard ’em, it’s up to us,” Horn said. “And we’re not going to disappoint.”
Rain fell over them in waves as they continued to follow the trail of clawed footprints in the mud. Blood covering the smashed grass showed where the beasts had dragged Boyd away. The sheer amount told Timothy that his friend was no longer alive. But hopefully he still had the anthrax they needed to inject in the webbing.
Timothy thought he felt the ground rumble slightly beneath his feet. He hoped it was just his mind playing tricks on him and command was right about them having a full ten minutes.
He gripped his rifle in his soaked gloves and angled the barrel down the path. It led them into a neighborhood and over the front yards of two houses.
Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning cutting through the sky.
They passed through another line of trees, following the trail through a yard of overgrown grass. Horn motioned for them to get down at the sound of squawking and scratching claws on the adjacent street. Timothy ducked low in the cover of the overgrown grass. He crept through the grass with Horn to get a better look.
Next to a rusted-out pickup truck nearly a hundred yards down the street, Timothy could make out three twisted shapes headed north. They were dragging a large body behind them.
“They still have Boyd with them,” Timothy said. He brought his rifle up just as the beasts started to disappear behind a minivan. “Can’t get a clear shot now.”
“We got to take them out before they get wherever they’re headed,” Horn replied.
He signaled to the backyard of the house. They ran hard to cut off the Variants. After passing by rotting decks and rusted swing sets, they raced back to the front yard of another house.
They took up firing positions between two cars parked side-by-side on a driveway, and Timothy flipped up his NVGs to peer down his scope.
The three creatures skittered toward them, still a couple hundred yards from the south. They had plenty of time to set an
