Resistance: The Gathering Storm

Yorba fired up at them.

“Take cover!” Hale shouted, launching one of the Marksman’s small semiautonomous drones. “Then we can pick them off.”

Large cargo modules were stored against the adjacent wall, and offered the only alternatives. So as the rifle- launched drone began to fire on its larger counterparts, thereby drawing them away from the humans, Hale led the team across the open area. There were spaces between some of the containers, and a couple were empty, giving the humans a place to hide.

“This is Echo-Five,” Kawecki said over the radio. “Do you want us to stay where we are? Or come a-running? Over.”

“Maintain control of that elevator,” Hale replied as projectiles pinged the modules around him, “but find cover. It won’t be long before they attack you as well. Over.”

Hale heard two clicks as Kawecki acknowledged the order. Yorba was using the heat-activated reticle to find targets and fire through the module he was hiding in. Striking up a rhythm, he began to destroy the drones with machinelike efficiency. Some of them exploded, strobing the big room with momentary light, while others crashed into storage units, cargo modules, and the floor below.

Hale managed to bag a couple of Patrol Drones with well-placed shots from the Marksman. Then the battle was over, and an uncanny silence spread through the room.

Barrie was the first one who crawled out into the open. “Come on,” she said. “I don’t think the cores are stored on this level, but we need to make sure, and the clock is running.”

Hale gestured, and the team followed her over to the vertical storage units, where the inventory continued. It took about ten minutes to check the rest of the shelves and confirm what she had predicted. “The fuel cores are located somewhere else,” she announced. “Probably on a lower level. We need to get back on the elevator.”

Kawecki and Pardo were waiting for them by the time the rest of the group arrived. They gathered together, and Gaines took the controls.

“Check your weapons,” Hale said grimly, as the platform began to drop. “Because if there are a bunch of stinks on the next level down, they sure as hell know we’re coming.”

But once again there were no Chimera waiting to shoot at them. The only illumination came from regularly spaced pools of light, and they could see that this room was quite different from the one above.

The floor consisted of gratings that crisscrossed a large open space. Below them, and located to either side, a maze of large storage chambers could be seen. They were open to each other and filled with what looked like water. Vertical boxes occupied each chamber, some of which were empty, and others of which contained cylindrical objects.

Above the storage chambers a system of rails could be seen, along with the chain hoists that rode them, and could be positioned anywhere in the room.

“This is it!” Barrie said excitedly, as the platform came to a stop. “They store the fuel rods in those water- filled chambers in order to keep them cool.” From what Hale could see, it looked as if the rods came in several different sizes.

Barrie was gone after that, and he had to jog to keep up with the scientist as she hurried out onto one of the walkways. Kawecki and Yorba remained behind to guard the elevator. Gaines and Pardo followed Hale.

“There!” Barrie proclaimed, as she came to a halt. “See the smaller ones? That’s what we want.”

Hale followed her pointing finger down to a section of storage silos and saw that roughly half of them were filled with silvery canisters. Each was about the size of a standard oxygen tank. That meant they were larger than he would have liked, and no doubt heavier as well, which explained the need for chain hoists.

“It’s my guess that the actual fuel rods are about the same diameter as a milk bottle,” Barrie said, “and twice as long. Each canister probably contains three or four of them, all protected by a steel cylinder and at least three inches of shielding. Inside, nestled between them, is some form of neutron absorber. What we need to do is jerk one of them out of there, load it into one of the shipping containers stacked against the far wall, and take it up to the roof.”

Hale met her eyes.

“Is that all? For a minute there I thought the process might get complicated.”

Barrie’s eyes narrowed.

“The clock is running, Hale… Shouldn’t we get going?”

“All right,” he conceded, turning to Gaines. “Go get one of those chain hoists and slide it over here. Pardo, jump down there, and get ready for the hookup.”

“Gotcha, Lieutenant,” Pardo responded as he laid his weapon on the grating. “We’ll jerk that thing outta there in no time at all,” he said confidently.

The Fury lived in the ever present now.

It didn’t think, not the way humans do, nor did it have a need to. Because its purpose was simple—to execute a carefully prescribed set of activities which, when combined with the functions carried out by other Chimera, would enable the virus that had created them all to conquer the planet.

Any planet.

In this circumstance it meant living where the Fury was designed to live, in a body of water that it considered its own, defending it against anything not Chimeran. So when the not-Chimera appeared on the gratings above, the Fury could hear their discordant speech-sounds, and followed them to a point it knew as a unique water-taste.

Stealth came naturally to the Fury and it propelled itself through the water with its flexible tail, making barely a ripple as it swam through the shadowy depths.

The chain hoist ran along a rail, and made a loud rattling sound as Gaines towed it into place. Then, having positioned it directly above Pardo, he lowered a pair of cargo hooks.

Pardo took control of them and bent to make the necessary connections. Gaines, who was watching from above, took hold of the control unit that dangled from the hoist. The moment he touched a delta-shaped button a loud whine was heard, chains rattled again, and the canister began to rise.

Pardo was crouched down, waiting for the canister to clear the surface, when a pincer shot up out of the water to grab his throat. His features contorted, and he made a horrible gargling sound as both hands went to the sinewy arm that held him.

As soon as he saw what was happening, Hale opened fire. Gouts of water jumped into the air as the projectiles sought their target, but the creature was extremely tough. Barrie’s Bullseye was slung across her back, and she couldn’t fire the Reapers without spraying Pardo, so she looked as if she was about to jump down when Hale beat her to it.

The thing was pulling Pardo under by that time, and as Hale landed on the concrete chamber wall, he drew the .44 Magnum in a last-ditch attempt to save the Sentinel. The two-handed grip came naturally but the pistol was still difficult to control due to its massive recoil. He put all six of the explosive rounds into the Chimera’s brown sea lion-sized body.

There was blood in the water, lots of it, as what remained of Pardo floated to the surface. He arrived belly-up, and when Hale saw that the Sentinel’s face was missing, he triggered the revolver’s secondary-fire mode. That detonated all five of the bullets that were buried in the monster’s muscular body and blew it in half. A series of closely overlapping thuds were heard, the water heaved, and chunks of raw meat boiled to the surface.

The kill brought Hale no pleasure as he emptied the revolver’s spent casings into the water, replaced them via one of the two speed loaders that he carried on his belt, and flipped the cylinder closed. The handgun went back into the cross-draw holster.

The canister had cleared the walkway by then, and as Gaines towed it toward the elevator, Barrie knelt on the grating.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “but we have to go.”

“Yeah,” Hale replied. “I know.”

Then, as he’d been forced to do so many times before, he had to leave a fallen comrade where he was. Adrift in a cooling tank, his face gone, and no longer recognizable as human.

By the time he and Barrie arrived at the elevator, Kawecki, Yorba, and Gaines had already dropped the