Azrael tossed Sammy at the woman.
More gunfire erupted down the hall, closer now.
“Someone’s broken through our lines outside,” one of the Scions said, his voice crackling. “Our loyalists said it looks like Reed Beckham was with them.”
Azrael snarled.
While he yearned to wait here and face Captain Reed Beckham, Master Sergeant Fitzpatrick, and all those other foolish traitors to make them pay for the pain they had caused, there was one other person more important to him.
President Jan Ringgold.
“Secure these prisoners,” Azrael said to his soldiers. They tied the science team up in cables and ropes from their packs.
“Stay here with one death squad,” Azrael said to Abaddon. “If I have learned anything about Beckham, it’s that he would fight through hell to see his pathetic wife. Take Reed, Ghost, or anyone else who shows up here alive if possible. If they cannot be taken alive, then destroy them.”
“Yes, Prophet,” Abaddon replied.
Azrael turned to leave but hesitated.
“Do not fail me,” he said.
His gaze moved to Kate.
“I’ll see you soon, Doctor,” he said.
— 26 —
Gunfire echoed through the hall. Timothy had not stopped firing and running through the hospital since they had taken out a squad of Chimeras guarding one of the entrances.
He pushed through a second-floor corridor filled with dead beasts. Beckham and Horn were far ahead, firing and taking down guards while Timothy helped Ruckley limp through the destruction.
All around them, disemboweled patients littered the hallways, some of them missing limbs.
His mind raced, wondering how the civilians were faring as the enemy tore through Galveston. Were Tasha, Jenny, Javier and the dogs safe?
Horn and Beckham had to be worried sick, but they weren’t showing it. Both men were machines, killing with calculated precision and moving past the macabre scenes without flinching.
All Timothy could do was take things one at a time. Advance to this corner, clear a hallway. Each time, his vision narrowed to the corridor and enemies before him. That mentality had gotten them through the hostile forces so far.
They reached another section of hallway choked with the bodies of soldiers, patients, and hospital staff who had given their lives. The smell of death and cordite hung heavy in the air as the team advanced.
“Almost there,” Beckham said. “Just one more turn on our left.”
Ruckley hobbled after him, carrying her M9.
They slowed when they approached the next corner. Beckham had told them the lab doors were situated at a T-intersection. Horn peered around the edge, then motioned that he had seen two hostiles.
Timothy’s heart sank. Had they already killed the science team?
He looked toward Beckham, but the experienced operator’s face was hard as steel. Beckham appeared to be considering their next moves. He motioned for Horn and Timothy to go down another hallway and loop back around so they could come at the lab from a different side, flanking the sentries. Beckham and Ruckley would stay behind, taking the sentries head on, keeping their attention while Horn and Timothy took them out.
Timothy nodded and ran down another set of halls. More bodies lined the corridors, and he tried not to let his eyes linger on all those who had lost their lives down here.
Focus, Timothy thought again. He remembered what Horn had told him before. Tomorrow they would mourn the dead; today they would fight to save the living.
He and Horn made it all the way around to the other side of the laboratory wing. They could see the sides of the two sentry Chimeras facing straight down the hallway where Ruckley and Beckham were.
Broken glass covered the hallway.
Timothy kept his rifle shouldered and took cover behind a sideways chair, providing him just enough shelter to stay out of sight. The Chimeras began to sniff the air, their nostrils pointed up.
Beckham and Ruckley opened fire and both creatures dove for cover, right into Timothy and Horn’s sights. They blasted the armored beasts, killing them instantly.
“Let’s go,” Horn said.
Timothy leapt over the busted chair and followed Horn. They jumped through the broken windows into the lab and then ducked behind the cover of the massive lab benches.
Beckham and Ruckley continued firing toward the lab entrance from the hall. Timothy leaned around a bench, seeing a pair of Chimeras standing over the scientists and engineers who had been working here.
Timothy shifted to another position to see how many other Chimeras were in the room. As he did, a beast in a black mask leapt over the lab bench, knocking aside computers and plastic vials. He landed hard on top of Horn and slammed his head into the ground.
Timothy leveled his rifle, but the half-man dodged past the burst of gunfire as it scrambled on all fours, slamming his shoulder into Timothy’s face.
The impact knocked Timothy back, his vision blurring. He felt clawed fingers tighten around his neck and blinked to see golden eyes staring at him.
“Never thought I would see you again,” the creature growled. The crackling voice sounded vaguely familiar.
The beast picked Timothy up and slammed him against a lab bench. Panicked cries rang out from the scientists and engineers.
Timothy tried to pull his knife, but the Chimera grabbed his hand, pinning him on his back to the bench.
Horn was still struggling to stand, his head rolling on his shoulder. Other Chimeras were firing into the hallway, keeping Beckham and Ruckley back.
The Chimera leaned closer.
“Do you not recognize me?” he snarled.
He pulled back his mask. His graying flesh was covered in scars and his nose was barely existent, but if Timothy squinted through his blurred vision, he could almost see the man, the collaborator, that this Chimera had once been.
“How about now?” the Chimera asked.
Timothy tried to talk, but he was too stunned.
“I am Abaddon,” the Chimera said. He pushed down on Timothy’s sternum. “But before I was chosen, I was called Nick.”
Timothy felt something pop in his chest. His
