Mabe (Earth Resistance Book 5)

by Theresa Beachman

  “Foster, this is all looking very pretty…” He raised his field glasses. The hive was a blur of activity, Chittrix taking flight to investigate the brilliant detonations.

  “And we have distraction part one sliding into action.” Foster’s tone was triumphant.

  Mabe touched his comms. “Darr?”

  “Busy,” Foster replied. “Keeping the ones on the ground entertained.”

  Mabe’s heart thudded against his ribs as he turned to Sarah. “Time to let rip.”

  “Let’s do this.” She flicked the controls on the drone, and it lifted a few inches in a low buzz of power.

  He grabbed her wrist, the ramifications scrolling through his mind. They’d have to move much closer. The drones had a limited range. “We make this as short and sweet as possible. That way you don’t get hurt.”

  She regarded him for a second. Those hazel eyes gilded with gold. She removed his wrist and tangled her fingers with his. “I know what I’m doing.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I know.” That was what he was afraid of.

  He straightened as the drone buzzed higher. “I’ll be covering you.” Doing whatever it took to keep her safe.

  The drone wobbled precariously. “Shit.” Sarah fought with the controls. She glanced up at him, her brow wrinkling. “S’okay. I got this. There.”

  The drone stabilized and ascended smoothly, hitting thirty feet before tilting toward the dazzling rainbow haze that cloaked the hive.

  Judging by the shouts echoing down the comms, Foster was having a ball.

  Mabe checked the camera feed over Sarah’s shoulder. The drone raced toward the hive, the ground passing underneath in a muddy blur. Sarah paced measured steps remaining within the drone’s control range.

  “We need to get it in before the paint clears.”

  “I know.” Her bottom lip caught between her teeth in concentration.

  The popping sounds of the paint bombs faded.

  “That’s the last of my babies,” Foster reported on the comms.

  Sarah’s drone was still eating up ground. Mabe circled her as she walked, his back to her at all times.

  Julia’s voice cut through the air. “Drone is in the building.”

  “Copy that.” Garrick’s gruff voice confirmed. “Signal’s fading on ours... fuck.” Muffled voices. “East drone’s lost visuals and control.”

  Sarah’s knuckles glanced against his thigh, tension radiating from her body. “Did we lose one?”

  He nodded.

  Her eyebrows pinched together as she increased her pace. “I should have expected this. The hive walls are interfering with the signal.”

  “We’re losing ours, contact and control erratic… fuck, it’s gone.” Even over the comms, stress made sharp edges of Sawyer’s voice.

  “Foster, you still have yours?” Mabe checked his watch. Had it only been five minutes? “Sarah—”

  She was gone, jogging down the bruised and damaged road that led to the hive, the control battery strapped to her back.

  What the—

  Mabe raised his pulse rifle and sprinted after her, his legs eating up uneven turf in an adrenaline-fueled race.

  He snagged her arm. “What the hell are you doing?” He yanked her close to his body, a tremor rocking his arms. Fuck, they were so close to the hive. The air shivered with Chittrix calls, penetrating his bone marrow.

  Sarah shrugged free. “Connection is fritzing, I need to be closer.” On the mini screen the drone was still eating up ground, flying high, dark shadows slipping past as it barreled onward.

  He gritted his teeth and gave a sharp shake of his head. “No, this is too close.”

  She stared at him and her chin lifted, “This is where I need to be to make this happen.” Before he could argue she took off again, lengthening her stride, increasing her speed.

  Hell, no.

  He caught up with her once more, scanning the multi-colored clouds, protecting her back. Chittrix thronged the sky, weaving in confusion. Darr was working on them too, messing with their heads, buying them time. But not forever.

  “We have to go back. There’s no cover.” His stomach contracted, only two hundred feet to the hive. He’d never been this close to one before. The noise pushed through him like a living thing, making his skin crawl.

  “I hear you.” But she was still walking, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

  “Sarah—”

  “I have to get this in the hive, Mabe.” She raised her voice above the ear shredding tumult.

  Her determination gave him pause. Hot emotions spiraled through him. Deep inside there was something new, something else alongside the fierce pain of loss, a new path. A new fork in the road that would let him move on and find space for Sarah in his life. He would not lose her. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Two drones have failed.” Her complexion blanched. She was petrified, but she was still doing this. Fuck, she was brave. And stubborn.

  He stared at her, pulling in a shaking breath as blood surged in his veins. “I can’t let you.”

  “I have to do this.” A tiny muscle blipped in her jaw, and the race of her pulse was visible at the base of her throat. “I won’t sit out here and watch it fail because it didn’t make it into the hive. I’ve worked too hard. There are no other options.” Her hands trembled, her fingertips white against the control panel. “Do it with me or not at all.”

  “My drone is gone.” Foster swore on the comms. “We down to one?”

  Mabe gritted his teeth and touched his comms button. “We’re moving closer with the last one.” He hated the relief in her gaze, but he had no other choice. “Sarah and I are going in.”

  He clicked his comms off. No distractions.

  “Thank you.” Her voice shook as she took his hand in hers.

  “I tell you to duck, you fucking fall to the floor. You do everything I tell you to. Understand?”

  She exhaled. “I’m so scared. My stomach hurts.”

  He cupped her cheek. “Nothing is coming near you without coming through me first.” He glanced skywards.

  Time to make good on his promise.

  40

  Sarah ran in a half crouch, sheltering the drone controls with her body. Mabe was sharp on her heels. His powerful presence was a protective shadow, and knowing he was there soothed her pounding pulse.

  She checked the tracking screen. The drone was nearing the entrance to the hive. She slowed to a fast walk as it banked and entered the buzzing monstrosity. Instantly her screen went white, adjusting to the differing light levels before crystalizing into focus, a narrow tunnel stretching away, exit holes honeycombed on every side, above and below. Her hands were clammy, but she didn’t dare wipe her palm for fear she lost control and crashed the deadly cargo.

  “I’m in.” Her breath caught, but she didn’t care. She swiped the screen and a green grid imposed itself on top of the camera feed as the drone mapped the hive. She angled it toward a gaping hole in the tunnel floor. “Mapping engaged. Descending to the lower levels.”

  The drone plummeted, shadows flitting past, too fast for her to register what they might be, and then the image shuddered as it bottomed out. Jagged forms scuttled above, Chittrix, swarming upside down above the craft.

  Shit. She increased the speed, skimming the tunnel floor in a whipping blur, a chill soaking her back as if she was really there. “Drone’s been spotted.”

  “Much further?” Mabe prowled a protective circuit, his pulse rifle raised to the sky. “Bugs are getting antsy.” He eased down on one knee, his gaze concerned. “Me too, if I’m being honest.”

  She shook her head. “You have time for jokes?” Her hands were numb, her knuckles painful. There must be dents in the metal where she was gripping the controls so tightly.

  He gave a dry chuckle. “I’ve spent too much time around Foster.”

  A red chamber flashed at the bottom of her screen. “I’ve located the nurseries,” she said, her voice rising to a
squeak. Hot relief washed over her and then vanished just as quickly as a gray mist obscured the drone feed. She shook the controls, but the mist remained. “I’ve lost visuals. Tracking on mapping guidance only now.”

  Mabe landed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Chittrix at nine o’clock.”

  She didn’t dare look up. Not now. The red dot of the drone sped along a thin line. Multiple red dots were closing fast behind it, converging from a multiplicity of directions. Please, not now. She risked a glance, and her stomach sank under an icy wave of nausea. Less than a hundred feet away an adult Chittrix had landed. Its wings rasped as they folded against its smooth back.

  “I see it.” Orange streaks glowed against the fading light, branding its belly. Instinctively, she hunched her elbows close to her side.

  Mabe had his eye to his pulse rifle sights. “So do I.” His finger grazed the trigger.

  Frosty fingers embraced her ribcage. “I’ve seen it before. At the bone yard.”

  The Chittrix rotated its sleek head, leisurely, front legs pawing the air in a slow-motion dance. “It knows me.” And I know it.

  Mabe’s head jerked. “What?”

  As if in recognition of her words, the Chittrix reared up on its hind legs to full malevolent height, displaying its scarred thorax.

  “Fuck that.” Mabe fired and power singed the air, but the Chittrix was faster, its powerful hindquarters launching it upwards into the muddying billows of paint and dust.

  Sarah retreated, willing the drone toward the larvae chamber. The blip on her screen flashed, barely seeming to move. “Mabe, you need to get out of here.”

  He craned over his shoulder. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “That thing wants to kill me.”

  “No shit.” He reached out, glanced his knuckles against her cheek. “Glad we’ve got that cleared up.” He squinted into the settling paint motes. “Keep moving. When it comes down, I’m ready for it.”

  Her screen beeped. “I’m in the nursery.”

  “Thank—”

  The Chittrix exploded from a swirling rainbow in a hurtling nosedive. Snarling jaws jacked wide as it zeroed in on Mabe. He threw himself to the ground in a defensive roll. Teeth gnashed a whisper from Sarah’s arm and she almost dropped the controls. Fuck. The earth shook with the thud of its barbed feet carving a landing only a short distance away.

  Ohmigod, not now. Every nerve in her body screaming, she clutched the tracker close and bolted.

  “This way.” Mabe snatched her arm and yanked her left, panting hard.

  Behind them the Chittrix shrieked, and her blood slowed, solidifying in her veins.

  “Mabe.” She grabbed for his belt. “No! We’re getting closer to the hive.” She fought to haul him in the opposite direction. “This is the wrong way.” The air was almost sticky, resisting her best efforts, but if she lost it and hyperventilated, she was dead.

  “Where’s the drone?” Mabe shouted, pursuing her through the clogging colored mist.

  She wiped the control screen free of sifting powder. The drone was still in the larvae chamber, bang center in the middle of the red grid. Yes. She thumbed the red deploy button to release the virus, ripping her nail with the pressure.

  The screen flashed. “It’s done. Mabe. It’s done.” Raw emotion ripped at her voice. The virus was released. She stumbled, blind with tears, her ankle twisting over, but his rugged arm scooped around her, towing her with him.

  “This way.”

  “Where are we?” She wiped her blurry eyes and tugged her collar above her mouth. Paint dissolved in her tears, staining the back of her hands, marking her like a carnival statue.

  “No fucking idea.” His head whipped left and right, searching for a way out. The paint storm was endless.

  Panic reinforced its grip on her body. Every direction looked the same and underfoot was a rutted, featureless map of shriveled grass.

  Tendons strained in Mabe’s neck. “I think we’re lost.”

  41

  Mabe’s gut instinct screamed the hive was straight ahead, where the howls of the disturbed Chittrix were loudest. He swerved, keeping the strident clicking on his right, aiming for where he estimated Darr and Foster were located. Foster’s paint bombs were brilliant, but not if they cost them their lives trying to escape.

  He clicked his comms back on. “Foster, where are you?” Gray static was the only answer in his ear. “Anyone?”

  A sudden gust cleared the confusing myriad of colors, exposing the hive on his right. Finally. His instincts had been correct, but the clearing murk exposed him and Sarah. Without doubt the clicking Chittrix echolocation was ramping nearer. He solidified his grip on her hand.

  Something solid and heavy bumped his foot. He recoiled, almost tipping over.

  “Scutters!” Sarah pitched forward, almost losing her balance as a Scutter lurched to face them, armored tail arced high above its head, the barbed tip swollen with poison. Her hand contracted in his and he dragged her backward.

  More Scutters surged forward, their stingers raised, surrounding them. Sarah coughed. “Mabe.”

  “I know.” He raised his pulse rifle, waiting for them to draw closer so he could inflict more damage. Come on. Come on.

  Sarah broke free of his grip and dug into her backpack before lobbing missiles into the thrashing aliens. Chitin ruptured, turning the air dark with shattered carapaces and liquid splatters. Limbs exploded, sizzling in the air. He ducked. What the fuck?

  “Devil acid. Hurry,” Sarah screamed, shoving him away from the melting scrum.

  Mabe ran, sweeping laser fire against the nearest Scutters, deafened by a screaming battle cry. His.

  Sarah let rip with her weapon. And still the Scutters advanced, climbing over the destroyed carcasses, tumbling and falling as their barbed feet dissolved on contact with the acid.

  “There’s too many,” Sarah shouted.

  A voice barked close to his ear. “Where the fuck are you?”

  Foster. Thank fuck.

  “No idea. Surrounded by Scutters. Where the fuck are you?”

  The zap of laser fire stung through the comms. Foster grunted. “Darr, they’re with Scutters, fucking find them.”

  Mabe clamped his jaw, razing his pulse rifle once more into the massed aliens. Stingers fired venom, splattering his body armor as he thrust Sarah protectively behind him. This was madness, but he would die before he let any of them near her.

  The throaty wail of an engine cut through the air.

  “Look,” Sarah yelled, as a motorbike engine roared.

  A gust of wind blew past, cloaking them in choking color. It wouldn’t be enough. It was too late. Mabe tasted blood as he fired relentlessly into the onslaught.

  The Scutters shuddered as one.

  What?

  The frenetic jab of their legs slowed, then stopped. They halted, talons opening and closing on thin air, their legs straining against invisible glue. Mabe stopped firing, fighting for breath in fierce pants. A rainbow of colored motes settled on his pulse rifle. Crimson, blue, muddy green.

  Sarah still held her weapon high. “Mabe, what’s going on?”

  Darr. It had to be him. “Darr. It must be Darr.”

  A motorcycle leapt through the scudding clouds, Foster twisting the throttle, whooping, his face distorted with manic enjoyment as he plowed through the restrained Scutters.

  Sarah clutched at Mabe. “What the hell is happening?”

  Foster spun the bike in a skidding semi-circle, spraying the frozen Scutters with dirt and stones. A few blinked lazily as Foster revved the engine. “Need a ride?”

  Mabe grabbed Sarah’s upper arms. He ran a shaking hand over her cheek. “Trust me?”

  “Of course.” Her skin was blanched from the stress of battle.

  A quick lift and he launched her onto the back of the bike.

  She wrapped her arms around Foster but twisted, her eyes wide when he didn’t follow. “Mabe.”

  H
e ignored her call as Foster gunned the engine. Darr’s ability to control the aliens had limits. Killing more would help. Mabe blasted the restrained Scutters, shattering them into pieces, until every single one within reach was annihilated.

  Foster swung in a wide circle, slowing enough for Mabe to swing onto the bike, crushing Sarah between them.

  Mabe fitted himself around her, buried his face against her shoulder. “Foster, Fucking go,” he bellowed.

  42

  Squashed between Mabe and Foster, Sarah’s world was a blinding barrage of noise and death. She pressed her face into Foster’s body armor, drawing comfort from Mabe locked around her in a protective shield.

  Foster drove insanely fast, tipping the bike precariously left and right, until the ground was inches from her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut as nausea threatened to dismount her.

  When he straightened the bike out, and she dared to open her eyes, the sky was no longer an insane kaleidoscope but a normal gray blue. Wind whistled in her ears as Foster accelerated on the straight, hooting with excitement. Adrenaline flooded through her. She was alive. They were all alive. Tears stung her eyes. She’d not expected to live, but here she was safe between the two men she trusted the most.

  Mabe released one hand from her waist and threaded his fingers through hers. His fingers were warm and reassuring. His mouth moved against her ear. “Nearly there.”

  As if on cue, Foster slowed, changing down through the gears as he cruised to a misshapen oak tree. Darr leaned against the Coyote, his arms folded, his face inscrutable as Foster swung the bike to a halt under the leafy green canopy.

  Mabe helped her down from the bike, not commenting on her shaky legs. She clung to him, sure if she let go her knees would buckle. “Did we really do that?”

  Foster beamed. “Fuck yes, I think you did.” He grabbed Darr in a shoulder hug and slapped his back. “Awesome, my friend.”