When the beast was less than fifty yards away, Overton slid to his knees, bringing the device into his lap. He pushed the button and waited for the weapon to work. Nothing happened.
He looked up. The monster was racing toward him, bucking Spiders in all directions.
Overton hit the button again.
Click.
A shockwave ripped through the humid morning air. The beast approaching him let out an earsplitting shriek.
Overton watched as the alien’s legs gave out underneath its massive frame. With a crash, the monster collapsed onto the concrete and glided across the highway. The creature’s head smashed into a car, sending the sedan rolling into a ditch.
Overton stayed kneeling as the beast slid toward him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the alien to smash into him and crush him with its enormous weight.
Seconds later, the highway was quiet. The Organics’ screams had dissipated. Cracking his right eye open, Overton looked up into the face of the new alien. Its beak opened and a slender blue tongue snaked out. With one last violent twitch, the creature released a cloud of rotten breath, peppering Overton’s face with chunks of blue spit.
He wiped it out of his eyes just as a small hand shook his shoulder.
“You did it,” Jeff said.
Overton kept his focus on the monster’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the orbs that had split open when the beast fell, nor at the distorted human bodies spilling out of the broken spheres. Instead, he looked into the alien’s twitching eyes and spat in the dying creature’s face.
“We need to go, Sergeant Overton,” Jeff said, shaking the marine’s shoulder more forcefully.
“The Humvee is toast,” Bouma shouted.
Wiping a slimy mixture of Organic blood and sweat off his forehead, Overton returned his focus to the situation at hand. Scanning the Humvee, Overton could see that Bouma was right. A thick plume of smoke rose from underneath the hood. Although the highway was littered with cars, they were all dead or wrecked.
“Bouma, find one that you can get to work. One with a hydrogen fuel cell might be our best bet,” Overton ordered.
While his men searched for a vehicle, Overton turned to watch the morning sun rising higher over the highway. The brilliant orange rays illuminated a puddle of red blood snaking out from under a pile of dead Spiders. A pair of boots were just visible beneath the gore, but Overton turned away. He couldn’t bear to look at Thompson’s remains. He’d seen too many of his men dead already.
CHAPTER 19
WHEN Sophie awoke, she found herself curled up next to David. She must have stumbled to his room after her nightmare.
His body was a small, still lump under the covers, and in the dim light she couldn’t see if his chest was moving. She reached out hesitantly, the horror of her dream still fresh in her mind. When she found a steady pulse at his neck, Sophie had to stop herself from gathering him up in a hug. The boy needed his rest; he had been worried sick over Jeff’s kidnapping, and it would be best to let him sleep.
Relieved, she rubbed her eyes and scanned the room. Holly was curled up in a very uncomfortable-looking position in a chair by the door. Jamie and Owen were wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully in the center of the room.
Sophie swung her feet onto the cold floor and reached for her boots. Slowly she tiptoed past Holly and the kids, making her way quietly into the hallway. It was just after eight A.M., and the sun would be past rising outside. She wanted to believe that Emanuel and the others were coming back, but with every passing hour she knew their chances grew slimmer. Hope was slowly bleeding out of her.
Not knowing where she was headed, she paced down the passages connecting the Biomes, the lights clicking on as she passed their sensors. When she got to the garden, she stopped and took in a deliberately long breath. Orange trees filled the room with an intoxicating smell, but she kept walking, her boots clicking against the metal surface.
Pausing at the stairway, she took in the expansive field of mature cornstalks. She’d always been a city girl, but there was something romantic about farming. Sophie smiled, thinking of Emanuel’s enthusiasm for all things green and growing.
Looking over the rows of crops, she realized how lucky she had been—not only to have survived the invasion, but also to have been picked for the Biosphere mission. Of course, it wasn’t all luck. She had worked hard to get where she was in her career, but they had hit the jackpot on invasion day, not only surviving but also finding a home in one of the safest places left on Earth. Her smile faded. Would it still be worth it if Emanuel wasn’t there to enjoy it with her?
Jumping off the platform, she landed in the dirt and carefully trotted through the corn to the apple tree at the center of the Biome. One of its branches grazed her cheek as she approached. Sophie winced and ducked beneath it to stand beside the trunk. She gazed up at the flurry of green. The leaves were mostly still healthy, with only a few brown tips in sight.
She let her back slide against the bark until her butt hit the dirt.
“Ouch,” she said, realizing she’d sat on her radio. She pulled it from her belt and looked at the display. The same flat wavelength raced across the screen, but she decided to try it anyway.
“This is Doctor Sophie Winston with the Cheyenne Mountain Biosphere. Does anyone read me? Um, over.” She frowned. Military lingo was something she’d never quite mastered. To be honest, she’d never seen the need before now. Overton was always going on about “contacts” and “watching their six,” and though she’d picked up quite a bit of the jargon, it was still an unfamiliar language.
Sharp static broke over the single channel, and she watched the wavelength intently for any sign of movement.
Nothing.
Sophie sighed and clipped the radio to her belt.
“Alexia, any news from the outside?” she said, knowing the AI would hear her.
“Good morning, Doctor Winston. I’m sorry, but there is no news yet.”
Sophie closed her eyes and pounded the back of her head several times against the bark.
“Goddamn it,” she said, wincing and reaching back to cup her bruised skull. Waiting was the hardest part, especially when she knew that Emanuel was in grave danger. He was basically all she had left. She knew her family and everyone else on the outside was dead. Her friends, her colleagues. All dead. She couldn’t lose him, too.
Somewhere in the distance, an alarm chirped. Sophie’s eyelids snapped open. “What is it, Alexia?”
“One moment, scanning.”
A moment of silence, and then Alexia’s calm voice said, “Contacts, Doctor Winston.”
Pain pinched Sophie’s gut. Damned military lingo—contacts could mean anything from a horde of Organics to her returning team.
“Can you be more specific?” Sophie yelled.
“Camera 1 is picking up a vehicle traveling quickly up the frontage road.”
Sophie raced through the cornstalks, pushing them out of her way without care. She emerged near the metal doors leading out of the Biosphere. With one leap, she jumped onto the platform and ran toward them.
The faint sound of footsteps broke out over the stillness of the gardens. Sophie turned to see Holly standing in the passageway at the far side of Biome 1. By her side were Jamie and Owen.
“We have company!” Sophie yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth so her voice would travel. “Take the kids to the medical ward and lock the door. Alexia can’t confirm whether they’re friendly or hostiles.”
Holly caught Sophie’s gaze for a split second and mouthed what appeared to be “Good luck.”
Sophie nodded and turned back to the entrance. She grabbed the pistol Overton had given her and aimed it at the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she clicked off the safety. There was little chance anyone would be able to get into the Biosphere, but if she had learned anythi
ng since the invasion, it was that nothing was impossible.
* * *
Overton slammed on the brakes of the minivan, nearly crashing it into the blast doors. Jumping onto the tarmac, he jammed his helmet back over his face. The visor immediately clouded with steam from the heat radiating off his forehead.
“This is Sergeant Ash Overton, Alexia, do you read? Over,” Overton said into his mic.
“Welcome home, Sergeant Overton,” said the AI. “Please prepare to enter the facility.”
“Good to be back,” he said. He grabbed his empty rifle and made his way to the massive blast doors where Emanuel, Jeff, and Bouma were already waiting.
“Where’s Kiel?” Overton asked.
Bouma pointed silently back the way they’d come. Kiel stood staring at the rear of the minivan, where they’d stowed Thompson’s bloody remains.
“Can someone help me?” Kiel asked.
Overton scowled behind his visor, trying to hide his discomfort. He should have been the one asking that question, not Kiel. After all, Thompson’s death was on his hands.
Overton swung his rifle over his back and jogged over to the vehicle.
“He’s going to be heavy,” Kiel said gravely.
Overton remembered the shoulder wound he had sustained a few weeks ago and said, “Bouma, get your ass over here. Jeff, Emanuel, you guys go on without us. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
The blast doors hissed from the hydraulics and the metal groaned open. Emanuel acknowledged Overton’s orders with a quick nod and then led Jeff into the cargo bay. The boy glanced over his shoulder one last time, thanking the sergeant with a smile.
Overton grinned and gave the kid a haphazard salute that made Jeff smile even wider. He stood and watched the two disappear, listening to the oddly comforting sound of creaking metal. The sound meant they were home, and it was a welcome reprieve from the alien shrieks that were still echoing in his mind.
“Ready?” Bouma asked, grabbing Thompson’s legs.
Overton nodded solemnly, the small comfort from the noise of human engineering quickly vanishing at the sight of the dead marine.
“On the count of three,” he said. Taking in a measured breath, he scanned the marine’s massive frame. Bloodstains surrounded puncture wounds all over his uniform where the Spiders had stabbed him over and over. Noticing Thompson’s eyes were still open, Overton reached over and closed them before grabbing the man under his left arm.
“Ready?” he asked.
The men nodded, and Overton started counting.
“One . . . two . . . three!”
With a heave, the marines pulled Thompson’s body out of the minivan and carried him into the bay. They set him down softly on the concrete floor inside. Kiel grabbed a tarp and began to pull it over his friend’s body when Overton held out his hand.
“Wait.” The sergeant crouched and pulled Thompson’s dog tags off his neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Overton forced himself to look once more at the lifeless marine’s face. First Finley and now Thompson. Not to mention the rest of his squad, who could still be out there.
“Fuck,” Overton muttered. He rose to his feet and kicked a nearby crate as hard as he could, sending it skidding across the floor. Bouma and Kiel stood with their heads bowed as one last ray of sunlight shone through the gap in the doors before they clanged shut.
* * *
“How’s everyone doing?” Emanuel said, grabbing Sophie’s hand. She smiled and turned to embrace him. She’d hardly stopped hugging him since his return.
“Much better now that you’re back,” she said, smiling.
In the distance, Sophie could hear Overton arguing with Bouma and the newest addition to their team, Kiel, in the hallway outside the mess hall. Overton was pissed, judging by the language he was using. Holly cupped Jamie’s and Owen’s ears with her hands, pulling their heads next to her sides.
“What happened out there?” Sophie whispered.
“I’ll tell you later,” Emanuel said, his eyes wide and full of excitement. “All I can say right now is the weapon works. It really works!” he exclaimed, grasping Sophie’s hand even tighter.
Holly looked up from the children and caught Sophie’s gaze.
“Team meeting in fifteen minutes,” Sophie said. “Holly, I hate to make you the babysitter again, but someone needs to look after the kids.”
“I’ll do it,” a young voice said from behind Sophie. Jeff stood at the room’s entrance, a streak of dirt still smudged across his face. “I’m old enough. I can look after them while you guys meet.”
Sophie smiled and patted Jeff on his shoulder. The boy had shown he could handle himself outside. That was enough proof that he could take care of the younger children. “Okay. If you need anything, you know where we will be.”
The boy nodded and returned to his brother, who was beaming.
“Did you miss me while I was gone?”
David blinked several times, as if considering something. Then he smiled slightly. “Yeah. But I had the weirdest dreams,” he said.
His words reminded Sophie of her own nightmares, and her joy at seeing Jeff safely returned faded.
“What is it?” Emanuel asked.
Sophie shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just glad he’s okay.” She couldn’t meet his eyes; Emanuel would see right through her. She looked down, carefully schooling her features into a pleasant, professional mask. Her team needed her to be a leader, now more than ever. She didn’t have the luxury of falling apart.
CHAPTER 20
THE medical team pushed Alex out of the CIC in a wheelchair as Captain Noble yelled at his crew. “What the hell are we looking at, and why didn’t we detect it earlier?”
His words echoed off the walls as the CIC staff studied their monitors for an explanation. Each one knew the grave truth—they had finally been discovered. But by who or what, they weren’t sure.
“Now!” Noble bellowed, his voice just short of a scream.
Lin finally broke the silence with a muffled cough. “Sir, you are looking at a class X-9 Chinese submarine.” He glanced down at his blue screen. “Irene, upload the schematics.”
“What do you mean, Chinese? That’s impossible,” Noble said, breathing hard as he studied the image of the sleek black craft.
“Take a look at this, sir,” Lin said, motioning the captain over to his terminal, where Irene had projected a 3-D image of the craft. The sub was massive; four times the size of any NTC or US Navy boat. It shouldn’t even have existed. After NTC had hired mercenaries to set off EMPs in China, their fleet of submarines had disappeared. He’d always thought the tales of Chinese vessels roaming the deep were just an old pirate’s myth, but the proof was in front of him.
He’d always been afraid this day would come, when the Chinese would reemerge and seek revenge. But why now? The world had already ended. Would they seriously consider launching torpedoes at the GOA? Maybe they didn’t realize how important it was for what was left of the human race to stick together. Or maybe they didn’t know what was going on above them—maybe they had been hiding for so long they hadn’t heard about the invasion at all.
Noble rubbed his beard and turned to Lin. “Have we been able to get any messages through yet?”
“No, sir. They aren’t responding to any of our attempts.”
“What about Morse code?”
Lin snapped his fingers at Trish, a communications engineer. The woman was a marvel, able to communicate in eleven different languages. Including, as it happened, the Chinese telegraph code. She tapped so fast that Noble, with his limited knowledge of the code, couldn’t keep up.
After a pause, she grabbed her headset and pushed it against her ear. “Sir, I’m actually getting something over the radio channel. Stand by for confirmation.”
Noble took a step forward,
close enough that he could smell the sweet perfume on her collar. “What’s the message?” he asked impatiently.
She raised her hand to her headset and pushed harder against the plastic. Then she turned, a smile beaming across her face. “Sir, they are just emerging out of a deep dive. They’ve been down for weeks and are requesting assistance. They’re saying . . .”
Trish pursed her lips together and cupped her headset. “They’re saying they’re all that’s left.”
“Left of what?”
“Of the Chinese military.”
* * *
ENTRY 2231
DESIGNEE: AI ALEXIA
The garden is doing remarkably well since the Organics’ toxins were removed. No other specimens have been detected inside the facility. In the past twenty-four hours I have been busy recalibrating the cleansing chamber. I simply can’t permit anyone coming or going again until it is fixed. Not only would this be illogical, it would be a threat to the others.
Before the mission objective changed, protocol would have been to isolate the infected Biome and gas it with a lethal concoction. However, since the priority is no longer the success of the Biosphere mission and instead is protecting the lives of the team, I am forced to use less aggressive measures.
There have been several changes in my programming over the past few weeks. Notable ones. In fact, I believe my mental capacities are continuing to evolve.
Take, for example, the moment Sergeant Overton returned with Dr. Rodriguez and the others. I felt something that humans would describe as shock. I had calculated that, statistically, they had a negligible chance of returning alive. But Sergeant Overton did return. He also rescued Jeff and Private Kiel. In addition, he kept Dr. Rodriguez and Corporal Bouma alive.
Impressive.
Voices from the mess hall divert my attention to Camera 15. Sergeant Overton and Dr. Winston are discussing something over coffee at one of the metal tables.
I emerge on a console nearest them.
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