Quarantine (The Shadow Wars Book 7.5) by S. A. Lusher Read Free Book Online Page B

the infirmary.
     
    * * * * *
     
    He almost made it to the bridge without getting attacked.
    As he rounded the corner to the final corridor that terminated in, as far as he could tell, the sole entryway to the bridge, he stepped practically into the waiting arms of another crewman. He was larger, a security officer, his muscles showing through his tattered uniform. With reflexes born of fear, Allan brought the machete around in a tight arc and buried it in the man's neck. It went in about halfway, lodging itself in muscles and meat, spraying blood.
    Allan ripped the blade out and then shoved the man backwards. The crewman stumbled back and crashed to the deckplates. He tried weakly to get back to his feet but so much blood was spraying out of his neck that he collapsed. On the heels of the shocked fear he'd felt at being jumped by the insane crewman, a white-hot wave of raw fury exploded into being. Allan suddenly found himself seething with total anger, as furious as he ever remember being. Suddenly, he leaped forward and dropped to his knees beside the body.
    He began screaming as he brought the blade down on the corpse's torso over and over again. Blood sprayed across his suit, his visor, the walls. His arm rattled each time the machete hit bone. Allan heard someone screaming incoherently and realized, after a moment, that it was him , his own voice, twisted and turned into something else. He became aware of the horrible, wet, meaty sounds the machete made hitting the corpse and suddenly felt his gorge rise. Fighting down the chemical burn of bile, Allan fell back into a sitting position and kicked away from the mutilated corpse. He realized his chest was heaving, his breathing unsteady and rapid.
    What was wrong with him?
    He slowly got to his feet, his legs trembling, the anger now totally gone. Was he that stressed out? He'd been prone to angry outbursts in his early days working with SI when he was unusually stressed about something...but never like this.
    Allan stared at the chopped up body and wiped at his visor. The corpse barely even resembled a person anymore. He hadn't known he had it in him to do that. As the trembling subsided, Allan knelt and retrieved the blade. He shook some of the blood off, cast one more uncertain glance at the bloody mess, then turned and hurried down the corridor to the bridge's entrance.
    The sooner he could get off this death ship, the better.
    As he approached the door, he noticed a flashing red light on the console next to it. Not a good sign. Jogging the rest of the way there, he reached the terminal and stared at it. Slowly, his hopes began to drop away as he read the message being flashed. It informed him that the bridge was presently in lockdown, and the only way to unlock it was by releasing the three manual overrides, which were spread out across the ship.
    “Oh, God...” he moaned, feeling despair begin to set in.
    Abruptly, his radio crackled to life once more. He prepared himself for another outburst of nonsensical screaming, but something different, something significantly more welcome came onto the airwaves.
    “Allan, this is Duncan, are you there? Did you make it?”

Chapter 05
    – A Spark of Hope –
     
     
    Allan felt relief surge through him. He took a quick look around, reconfirming that he was alone, and retreated to the nearest door, to the right of the bridge. Opening it up, he found a small security office that had been subjected to a brutal firefight. He closed the door behind him and locked it, then sat down in a chair.
    “This is Gray...you have no idea how glad I am to hear from you. What happened? Where are you? How did you make it?” he asked.
    A pause, and Allan instantly began to worry that he might have imagined that last part, that he was still alone on this ship. Then there was a crackle of static. “Allan! You made it! Okay, this is what happened. We were attacked by the Stygian , what might have been automated defenses left on. Colin, Hunter,