The Genesis Plague (2010)

ground, probing for his weapon. His fingers registered something. But it wasn’t steel - it was spongy. And it bit him. Then came another deep bite on his thigh. ‘Ahh!’
    Ramirez was back on his feet and shone the light on Holt. His blood went cold as thousands of eyes glared back at him.

73
    Anxious to share his discovery of Lilith’s tomb with Shuster, Hazo made his way towards the cave’s centre and along the row of containers. Arranged side by side, two metres apart, the containers reminded him of railroad boxcars.
    Glancing into the interiors, he spotted Shuster milling about inside the fourth container. Best not to disturb him, Hazo thought.
    He waited outside.
    He aimed his light up the ventilation stack that rose directly above the fourth container straight through the cave’s lofty ceiling. He traced the light down the stack to a truck-sized motor housing mounted on a sturdy steel platform atop the fourth container, directly above the door. Round amber lights blinked on its control panel. Having heard the buzzing fan come to an abrupt stop a few minutes ago, he presumed that the system had gone into sleep mode. He noticed that other critical systems hardware had been installed on the platform too; clearly, the brain centre for the installation. Bolted alongside the container’s doorway was the platform’s access ladder.
    A shrill scream rang out and Hazo spun towards it, sweeping his light side to side.
    The corporal responded in an instant, bursting through the dangling plastic slats and bounding down the short ramp with his M-16 at the ready. ‘What the hell was that?’ he asked Hazo.
    ‘Back there.’ Hazo pointed to the cave’s rear.
    ‘Stay here,’ Shuster told him then bolted off to investigate.
    When the corporal disappeared around the container that sat at the end of the row, Hazo decided to climb up to the control platform for a better view. Gripping the ladder rungs, he began his ascent. Halfway to the top, he paused to catch his breath.
    Off in the distance, he heard Ramirez laughing; Holt joining in shortly thereafter.
    Must have been a false alarm, he guessed, continuing his ascent, slow and steady.
    The wheezing in his lungs had given way to something much worse. Suddenly something ruptured beneath his breastbone. Within seconds, he felt like he was drowning. He coughed violently and a hot viscous liquid swelled into the back of his throat, bringing with it the taste of copper.
    Blood.
    Fighting the dread that threatened to paralyse him, he spat out the vile phlegm and managed to catch his breath. Clambering topside, he was overtaken by a bout of dizziness that forced him to his hands and knees. He cleared his lungs again, spat up more blood. If he’d been sickened by the same disease that afflicted Al-Zahrani, he realized it wouldn’t be long before the lethargy would give way to complete immobility and delirium. And after that …
    Hazo remembered what Karsaz had told him at the restaurant: ‘Maybe it’s not so bad that you don’t have a family of your own. Less grief and worry.’ Death was far worse for those left behind. Hazo had learned that firsthand with the loss of his father, mother and brothers.
    He shone the light down at the bloody puddle glistening over the platform’s metal floor panel. Am I dying? he wondered.
    When Ramirez and Holt stopped laughing and began screaming again, Hazo came to his senses. Getting to his feet, he was able to clearly see shifting light coming out from the tunnel they’d gone into. But he could only see the top of the opening.
    ‘Get out of there!’ he heard Shuster yell.
    Hazo saw Ramirez’s helmet bob in and out of view, Holt’s next.
    Three seconds later, all hell broke loose as the cave filled with the deafening clack-clack-clack-clack of machine gun fire and strobing muzzle flash.
    Then Ramirez bolted zigzag up the path through the frames of violet light. His weapon was angled low, practically to the ground. He was yelling, ‘Get the fuck away from me, you motherfuckers!’
    Hazo leaned over the platform’s safety rail, trying to discern what he was shooting at. At first, he couldn’t spot the enemy.
    Then the threat became all too clear.
    An undulating black wave spilled out from the rear of the cave, curling, twisting, spreading fast over the ground, as if a colossal oil drum had been tipped over to flood the space. With it came unearthly squealing that filled the cave. In the darkness the pulsing crests twinkled