“Roger,” Finley responded, disappearing down the hill, a cloud of dust trailing him.
Sophie watched the dirt swirl like a miniature tornado. It was then that she saw the depression of what had been a lake only days before. For the first time, she understood the end of the world was no longer a hypothetical concept, a theory to be debated by academics. Rationally, she’d known the consequences of Earth’s surface water being stolen. Ecosystems would begin to collapse. Trees would wither and die. Carbon emission levels would reach an all-time high, causing temperatures to rise, and any human survivors would be forced underground.
A pine needle pinged off her helmet. It disappeared as it hit the ground, camouflaged by the tan dirt. She continued to scan the area, her eyes falling on dry brushes and browning trees. As a scientist, she’d known all of this, but looking at the dry lakebed, it was suddenly real. The truth sent a shiver down the length of her body just as Bouma tapped her on her shoulder.
“Gotta move, ma’am,” he said, rushing by her.
Sophie nodded and repositioned Jamie so she could carry the little girl more easily. With a sigh she took the first step into the depression below.
They traveled silently through the barren forest for hours, until the trees parted and revealed what had been civilization. Finley paused at the side of a gravel road and listened to a taut power line whine in the breeze. For a moment he wondered if it was still carrying any electricity, but he knew it was unlikely.
In the distance a weak sun began to set over Cheyenne Mountain, turning the sky a brilliant crimson. Overton blinked, and his visor automatically adjusted to the change in light. He took one knee next to Finley and stared silently down the road.
“Contacts?” Overton whispered into his com.
“Negative. All clear,” Finley replied.
Overton didn’t like the silence. It was eerie, and it filled his mind with questions. Had the Organics retreated? Were they waiting for the right time to ambush his team? Or were they simply too busy turning the population of Colorado Springs into smoothies?
None of the possibilities was particularly reassuring. Either way, Overton knew they needed to move. He didn’t want to get caught in the open during the night. It seemed like that was when the Organics were at their most active.
He nodded at Finley, who immediately took off running down the gravel road. There was zero cover for a klick or so where the road wound upward and wrapped around the mountain. It was the only way to get to the blast doors, but it also left his team completely exposed.
Overton watched the man for several minutes before taking off behind him. Finley’s helmet bobbed as he ran. Up and down, up and down. His eyes followed the movement for a moment and then scanned the sky and surrounding area for contacts.
Nothing.
It was a good sign, but for some reason it only added to his nervousness. Surely the Organics had detected them by now, so what was stopping them from attacking? He had left Luke’s bunker prepared for a fight, and now he was getting anxious. Where were they?
He gripped the pulse rifle tighter, ignoring the pain shooting down his injured arm. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on, making his way to the edge of the road where it began its winding journey up the mountain. It was there he finally halted, struggling for air and watching Sophie and Bouma make their way up the incline with their precious cargo.
Overton looked up at the trail. “Almost there,” he said, smiling behind his visor. Sophie didn’t pause when she caught up with him. She continued up the hill at a pace that impressed even the Marine. He had always been a firm believer that people picked up speed in the last stretch of a race, especially when they could see a finish line. She was proving his theory to be true.
He leveled his rifle toward the ground and continued on, swearing that he would finally quit smoking. But as the blast doors came into focus, he was already imagining how sweet his next cigarette would taste. Then he noticed that something was wrong with the doors.
They were already open.
CHAPTER 21
OVERTON slipped through the crack in the monstrous blast doors. Finley watched with his back to the rock, his foot tapping anxiously.
Several seconds bled by, and Sophie began to get nervous. All she could think about was Emanuel. The open doors meant one of two things: either the Organics had gotten in, or Emanuel and the rest of her team had left.
As she studied the blast doors from a distance, she realized the latter of the two possibilities was remote at best. At the base of the metal doors were claw marks, much larger than any of the spiders were capable of making.
Those are the small monsters. Jamie’s words echoed in Sophie’s mind. Reality set in; her stomach lurched, and the adrenaline mixing with her bloodstream clouded her vision.
“We have to get in there,” she whispered into her mic, setting Jamie softly on the ground. She jabbed her finger at the claw marks. “Check those out.”
“What the fuck are those?” Finley exclaimed, taking one knee to study the doors.
“We have to warn Sergeant Overton,” Bouma replied. He unstrapped the metal device from his back and carefully rested it against the wall of the door. “I’m going in,” he said, his weapon leveled at the darkness.
“Roger. I’m right behind you. Dr. Winston, stay here! That’s an order,” Finley said.
She nodded and crouched down next to Jamie. The child sat on the rocky ground, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Are we safe yet?” she asked in a soft, innocent voice.
Sophie looked down at the girl through her silver visor and lied. “Almost, honey. Almost.”
* * *
Inside the facility, Bouma caught up with his commander.
“Sergeant, the doors. They had all of these scratches,” he panted. He eased to a stop behind Overton, who was standing frozen in the darkness of the hangar.
The Marine didn’t respond. He simply blinked and scanned the blackness, his eyes straining to see what lurked in the shadows.
“Sir, the—”
Overton balled his hand into a fist, and Bouma took a step back, nearly bumping into Finley.
“My heat sensors are picking up some weird readings,” Overton whispered. “Bouma, take our six. Finley, you’re with me.”
The two Marines nodded and fell into position. Overton took the lead, stepping a few cautious paces into the darkness, blinking again as the green tint from his night vision filled his HUD.
He had seen several heat signatures upon entering the hangar, but they disappeared almost as fast as they had appeared. The claw marks on the doors troubled him. More than troubled—they fucking terrified him. He knew better than anyone in the group that the spiders hadn’t done that to the doors. The wound on his shoulder proved they weren’t that strong. If they were, his arm would be lying in a parking lot back in Colorado Springs.
Don’t lose focus.
The words from his drill sergeant were the perfect reminder that he needed to get his head back in the game. Whatever was on the other end of those claws was going to be big, and he needed a clear mind if he was going to have a chance of taking it down.
A flash of red raced across his HUD. His eyes followed the blur before it disappeared off his display. “Contact,” he whispered.
Two short bursts of static broke over the com.
“I see it,” Finley said.
“Me too,” Bouma replied.
“Hold position,” Overton ordered.
He stilled his breathing in an attempt to calm his nerves. The green glow of the tunnel filled his HUD with an eerie haze. Another flash of red burst across his display and disappeared.
Whatever it was, it was fast. He held his position and scanned the tunnel. If he had to guess, he would put them at one hundred yards away from the Biosphere entrance, which meant they had already traveled farther than he thought.
It also meant there was a considerable gap between him and the civilians.
A wave of helplessness washed over him. He pulled his focus from the tunnel and turned. The last thing he wanted was to be outflanked. But as he began to backtrack, his HUD exploded with red light and his stomach sank. It was too late.
Towering behind Finley was a nine-foot-tall monstrosity. Overton scanned the beast in shock. He had never seen anything quite like it. Its massive tail, short thick legs, and stubby arms reminded him more of a reptile than an alien. But when his eyes finally came to rest on the creature’s face, he saw the difference. Tucked within a skull rimmed with spikes was a humanoid face with a pair of emotionless eyes.
Before Overton had a chance to warn Finley, the creature lurched forward, its tongue flicking between a mouthful of jagged black teeth. A deafening sound escaped its mouth as it attacked.
The monster was incredibly fast, using its tail to help it slither down the tunnel. In less than two seconds, one of the creature’s arms had wrapped around Finley’s torso while the other had impaled his neck armor with a sharp claw.
A single burst of static squawked over the radio as Finley let out a cry. His last words were undecipherable as he choked on his own blood.
There was nothing Bouma or Overton could do. They watched in horror as the monster tightened its grip around Finley’s torso and yanked, ripping the private’s head from the bloody stump of his neck.
“NO!” Overton screamed, shouldering his rifle and squeezing the trigger as the private’s headless body slumped to the tracks below.
The tunnel glowed with the light that emanated from Bouma’s and Overton’s rifles as they shot round after round. The pulses ricocheted off the creature’s blue shield and it screeched, its mouth displaying every one of its black teeth.
Both Marines emptied their magazines into the creature without effect. Overton reached for his electromagnetic grenade, tossed it at the monster’s feet, and took off running down the tunnel. “Move it, Bouma!” he screamed.
A bright flash filled his display, blinding him. He gritted his teeth, took one knee, removed his .45, steadied his breathing, and, when his vision cleared, fired a single round. The bullet seemed to travel in slow motion, barely missing Bouma, who was still running, and punching a wide hole just above the creature’s eyes. They blinked, and then the monster let out a soft grunt before it collapsed face first onto the tunnel tracks, its claw still gripping Finley’s head.
“Holy shit!” Bouma panted. He was bent over, his hands on his knees, staring at the alien. Overton holstered his pistol and jammed another magazine into his rifle before pacing over to the fallen beast.
“They aren’t shit without their force fields,” he said, taking one knee next to Finley’s fallen body. “God damn . . .” his voice trailed off as he stared at what was left of his Marine. “Fuck, he didn’t deserve to go out like that.”
Overton forced his gaze away and scanned the tunnel for contacts. There wasn’t time to mourn Finley. Not with Dr. Winston and Jamie waiting. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if one of these creatures caught them.
“Move out, Bouma.”
He took off running back down the tunnel, but Bouma stood frozen in place. He stared at his friend and the beast that had claimed his life.
“No one fucking told me I’d be fighting goddamned alien monsters when I signed the dotted line,” he said. He stood there for what felt like ages before forcing himself to move. He took a last look at Finley’s corpse and whispered, “Sorry, man, but maybe you actually lucked out.”
* * *
Sophie scuffled along the side of the tracks with one hand on Overton’s shoulder and the other gripping Jamie’s little hand tightly. There was no need to tell the girl to close her eyes as they came upon Finley’s corpse; the darkness of the tunnel ensured she didn’t see the gruesome scene.
Through Sophie’s visor she saw it all—the terrifying corpse of the alien, whose skull was leaking a river of goo, Finley’s headless body, and finally his helmet, which had strips of esophagus and flesh still attached to it.
Her stomach lurched and she gagged. The taste of regurgitated sausage overwhelmed her, and she was forced to brace herself against the wall.
“Are we almost to the safe place?” Jamie asked in a hushed whisper.
Sophie sucked in some filtered air and blinked the cloudiness from her vision. “Yes, we’re almost there,” she said.
“Keep moving,” Overton ordered.
Jamie latched herself around Sophie’s waist. “I don’t like the dark.”
“Dr. Winston, keep her quiet,” Overton barked.
Sophie ran her armored fingers through the girl’s locks and glanced at Finley’s body one more time before continuing on down the tunnel.
Heel to toe. One step at a time.
The distance between their location and the entrance to the Biosphere was hard to judge. The green glow of her night vision made everything look like a video game.
She pressed on. Every step brought her closer to finding Emanuel.
A few feet ahead she could see that the tunnel curved slightly to the right. Overton had already halted, trying to gain an angle on the turn. She craned her neck and saw Bouma was still behind them.
“The entrance to the facility is right around this corner,” Overton whispered into the com. He stole a quick glance around the granite wall and eyed the passage.
“It’s clear. Stay tight.”
Sophie felt a lump forming in her throat. She gripped Jamie’s hand tighter and followed the sergeant, stepping carefully over the train tracks.
They crept up the staircase leading from the tunnel to the platform and followed it into the facility in single file. Every footstep sounded like a miniature earthquake in the narrow hallway.
The noise echoed in Overton’s helmet. Stealth was the only advantage he had on the Organics; without it he knew he wouldn’t be able to protect what was left of their group.
An image of Finley’s headless body slipped into his mind. He gritted his teeth and forced it into the vault where he stored all of the other horrible things he’d seen. There was no hiding it forever—the image would reappear, more than likely on some dark night when sleep wouldn’t come. But he had to put it away for now and focus on his current objective.
Get inside the facility. Secure it and find the rest of the team.
He repeated the mission over and over. It helped him focus. Finally, they passed a briefing room and a set of offices. He halted outside the entrance to the cleansing chamber. Taking one knee, he peeked around the corner.
His eyes fell upon the thing he’d been dreading to find. The aliens had already penetrated the facility, more than likely in search of the pond. On the ground were a thousand tiny pieces of shattered glass, spread across the floor like candy from a broken piñata. Mixed throughout were gooey remnants of the same material he had seen gushing out of the monster’s skull in the tunnel.
Fuck.
The word escaped his mouth and sounded over the com.
“What is it?” Bouma replied, his voice tight with fear.
Overton responded by slipping into the darkness of Biome 1. He shouldered his rifle, grimacing from the growing pain in his arm.
A faint red signature glowed to life on his HUD. He knelt and zoomed in. Whatever it was, it appeared to be inside the wall.
“Contact,” he whispered. “Check it out, Bouma.”
Bouma hesitated at the opening of the cleansing chamber and then jumped onto the dirt of the garden, crushing several plants that had already sprouted. He walked at a steady pace, his weapon trained on the wall.
About one hundred yards out he stopped. He blinked to enhance the image on his HUD. The contact was curled up inside a closet. At first glance it reminded him of the ultrasound image he had seen of his neph
ew a few months earlier. But this was no baby. This was something else.
He pressed on cautiously, his boots crushing plants beneath their tread. When he got to the platform, he put one hand on the metal and pulled himself up, keeping his rifle trained on the closet.
Two large steps across the platform were all it took to get to the wall. He slouched against it, sucking in a deep breath. Counting to three, he slowly pulled the handle. The door creaked open, and he jumped back as a body slumped onto the platform.
“I found someone,” he whispered into the com. He pulled off a glove to check the man’s pulse. It was surprisingly strong. He rolled the man onto his back, and Emanuel’s eyes popped open, scanning the darkness restlessly.
“Who—who’s there?!”
“Keep it down,” Bouma whispered, bringing his hand to Emanuel’s mouth.
“We have to hide,” Emanuel said, scooting backwards on the metal platform until he hit the wall with a thud.
“Emanuel!” Sophie cried, dropping Jamie’s hand and rushing toward him. “You’re okay.” She dropped to both knees and hugged him, gripping him so tight he couldn’t scream again even if he’d wanted to.
“Sophie, is that you?”
She reached for her helmet and slipped it off. She blinked several times before the outline of his face came into focus. “Yes, it’s me.”
Emanuel’s body slowly relaxed. He reached out for her, hugging her forcefully. “God, I thought I had lost you,” he whispered.
“I know, I thought I lost you too,” she whispered.
Emotions she had ignored for too long overwhelmed her. Mars, the Biosphere, her team’s opinion of her—none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was surviving—surviving with Emanuel.
A single tear raced down her cheek, hidden by the darkness. She didn’t bother wiping it away. Her body was too tired. It had been through so much.
“All right, lovebirds, let’s get moving. I want the facility secured in thirty minutes. Bouma, set your mission clock,” Overton said over the com.
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