Occupation: A Post-Apocalyptic Alien Invasion Thriller (Rise Book 1)

by Nathan Hystad

  “It’s okay,” one of the men standing close by his right shoulder said, recognizing the understandable hesitation. Cole turned to him, seeing his gaze locked resolutely ahead as he pretended not to have spoken. Cole peered to the front and shuffled his boots tiredly towards the darkness as he fought the urge to reach under his pack and draw the blade from the base of his spine.

  The darkness didn’t last long, but what came after was a wonder, even to Cole, who had seen more than few unusual occurrences in his life. He couldn’t imagine what Lina felt, given that her sheltered life had been blown wide open in the last month.

  He got that same feeling of familiarity again as he did when he watched these irregular soldiers communicate; the smells of being underground and the way things were stacked in orderly crates all along the corridors they walked through. The roadway that went underground was blocked off after maybe sixty paces and doors on either side of the tunnel led into excavated corridors that might have started out at one time as intended that way but had been repurposed years afterwards.

  He was shown into a small, windowless room and turned to face the door in fear before relaxing as Lina was bundled in there with him. The door didn’t close, and two others were pushed inside with them.

  Before them stood a young man, about Cole’s age, height, and weight, but his eyes bore a frightened innocence that the Freeborn man’s did not. Cole glanced at the wrist, seeing a shiny metal bracelet around it, which gave him a stab of fear that the things out there could track him.

  “It’s okay,” the guy said with a weak smile of reassurance. “They can’t trace me.”

  The woman with him groaned and lowered herself into a chair to cradle her head. Lina, unable to curb her instincts to help, bent down to ask if she was okay.

  “My head is all,” the woman said. “Got knocked out a ways back. It’ll pass.”

  Lina tutted and rummaged in her pack to produce a bottle of water and offered it to her. She accepted it with a smile and drank thirstily before offering the bottle to the man.

  Cole finally noticed the coyote in the entrance, crouching low. It moved toward Lina and lay down at her feet. A warmth coursed through him at the sight.

  “I’m Monet,” she said, nodding to her companion. “And this is Alec.”

  “Cole,” Cole said, asking a question before Lina could introduce herself. “That other man, he was a Hunter, wasn’t he?”

  “Guess so,” Monet said. “The Reclaimers will pick him apart bit by bit.”

  “The Reclaimers?” Lina asked, confused.

  “I’m guessing you two have been out in the wild a long time,” Monet said with a hint of amusement. They were saved from any response by the door opening and someone walking in with a tray of food. Their eyes lit up, Cole’s especially, as he hadn’t seen food like that for years. So accustomed was he to living off whatever he could pick or kill that the sight of so many colors in one meal rocked his senses, and that was before he took a bite.

  The bread was soft and pungent but had a crunch to the outside that his brain couldn’t even begin to put into words. As the whole thing squashed under the force of his closing teeth, the cold meat inside set his taste buds alight before the cool, watery crispness of the green leaves mixed in there added another, newer dimension to the experience until the soft, red flesh of something sweet burst to turn the experience into something nearing ecstasy. Lina fed their coyote companion food from her hand, and the animal seemed more at peace here than in nature.

  The door opened again, and an armed man stood there. “You,” he said, pointing at Cole, “and you,” this time to the man named Alec. “Come with me.”

  “Not without them,” Cole said as he stood protectively, but Lina seemed annoyed by his attempts to be heroic.

  “Fine,” the man said in a softer tone. “All of you come. We’ll get you fixed up first, if that’s okay with everyone? The dog stays here.”

  Monet nodded, and Cole was sure they all had a few injuries that could use a little attending to. A medic came and went, and the short-haired woman appeared better with a new bandage wrapped around her head, and a pill for the pain.

  Someone came in with two bowls, one with water, the other full of food, setting them down beside the coyote. The animal didn’t seem to notice them slip out of the room.

  They followed their guide on a route so convoluted, it couldn’t be the direct path to anywhere. They were led through long, excavated caverns where strange lights hung low on chains from the dark ceiling, and as Cole walked past, he held out a hand to affirm his sense that the light gave off warmth to mimic the power of the sun.

  Yet more chambers held animals, also enjoying the lights that mimicked the sun, and the smell he expected to fill the caverns wasn’t there, like it was being drawn out somehow.

  The tour continued, and all the time, more people than Cole had ever seen in one place went about their business with purpose. All of them seemed fit and strong, unlike just about every other person he had seen in his life.

  The tour eventually led to a workplace via a metal staircase. That office was mostly metal, giving it a feeling that it was there for function not comfort as the glass walls towered over the activity below. As they stepped inside and stood in a row, he felt a nervous knot in his stomach. The chair swung around and the wide smile of a man he thought dead stared back at him.

  “Tom!” came the exclamation, only it wasn’t from Cole, who had been reunited with his mentor he thought lost. It came from the man beside him.

  Chapter 50

  Alec

  “Tom!” Alec shouted. His exhausted body barely had enough energy to cross the space and embrace the older man. Tom was standing, his trimmed beard pressing into Alec’s neck as he patted the younger man on the back.

  “Good to see you, Alec,” he said.

  “How can this be? I have so many questions,” Alec said, his voice stammering. He glanced at everyone with them and felt self-conscious.

  “I know you do. You too, Cole,” Tom said. The woman beside Cole fidgeted with her fingers, looking around with wide-eyed disbelief. Alec wondered if he appeared that inquisitive sometimes. Her hair was raven black, and he thought she might be the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

  Cole stepped forward, and Alec was able to assess him under the light. His hair was shaggy, brown. His eyes met Alec’s and he heard Monet gasp.

  “Tom, what’s going on here? Why didn’t you tell me about all this?” Cole asked Alec’s mentor.

  “Wait… you two know each other?” Alec asked, and Tom nodded.

  “Have a seat, everyone.” Tom motioned to a scattering of chairs across from his desk, and the girl glanced at Cole as if to see if that was okay. Alec’s stomach dropped. Obviously, they were a couple. Why else would they be there together? Monet stared at Alec then Cole.

  “What?” Alec mouthed the words, and his friend rolled her eyes. He’d never get used to that look she gave him.

  “This is all going to be a shock, even to you, Patricia,” Tom said.

  “Monet, call me Monet,” she said.

  Tom appeared older than Alec remembered him, but better, healthier. It wasn’t easy on anyone working in the plants, especially for someone above their prime. Seeing Tom in fatigues, sitting with immaculate posture with computer monitors around the room felt right, like he was finally seeing the real man. He felt betrayed at the lack of information over the year or so he’d been close with Tom in Detroit.

  “Welcome to the Reclaimers,” Tom said, spreading his arms apart. “Monet, thank you for all you’ve done for us. I heard what happened to Jackfish, and Crash, and I’m sorry. Only one in four of our field agents last more than a year out there. It’s a tough business, and we have no choice but to press on.

  “Cole, I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly. Something happened, something I can’t explain right now, but I didn’t mean to leave you in the lurch out there all alone. One day, you’ll understand. And, Alec, yo
u have made me so proud. To think that the skinny kid on the plant floor is the same man before me now… it’s tough to imagine.”

  Monet fumbled in her pockets and pulled out the device Alec had smuggled from Detroit. “I think you’re going to want to see this,” she said.

  “Is this…?” Tom’s eyes were wide.

  “The very one. It’s the reason my two closest friends are dead, and all of this went down. I hope whatever’s on there is worth it.” Monet slid the card across the metal-topped desk. Even though Alec had a million questions for Tom, he prioritized what was on the device.

  Tom held it and glanced at the four of them.

  Monet spoke up. “Show us. We need to see it.”

  Tom nodded and plugged it into a black console on the desk. One of the monitors on the wall lit up, and he scrolled through the files, clicking on one. An image enlarged on the screen, and Tom slammed a hand on the desk.

  “We have it, sweet Jesus, we have it!” he shouted. He was walking around the room now, and Alec struggled to see this was the same man he used to know.

  “What are we looking at?” Cole asked from beside Alec.

  “This is… what our friend Alec has been helping build for the last few years. The secret project Detroit was testing first. It was the whole reason I shipped myself there. I needed to hear if the rumors were true. Things grew hot, and I had to bail in the middle of the night, but at least I could leave you with that.” He pointed at Alec’s bracelet.

  “Why don’t you two have one?” Alec asked the couple beside him.

  Cole shrugged. “I don’t have an ID.”

  “Neither do I,” Lina said, her voice like an angel.

  “Why? How can that be?” Alec asked.

  Monet answered. “I told you about the Freeborn. Clearly, these are two of them.”

  Freeborn. “You’ve never been marked? They don’t have you catalogued?” The entire concept was too much for Alec, who’d lived under their thumb his entire twenty-five years. It wasn’t fair.

  “You still haven’t told us what that is,” Monet said, nodding to the screen.

  “It’s a gateway,” Tom said quietly.

  “A gateway. What does that mean?” Cole pressed. Monet had told Alec of her suspicions earlier on their journey, but it seemed so far-fetched.

  “We’ve been occupied. But how many Overseers are here? Not many. They’ve forced us to work for them. Hunters like the one in our custody now, supervisors, guards, and then the entire working population. We are doing this to ourselves. We have to strike hard and fast.” Tom slammed a fist into his palm.

  Monet leaned forward. “Where does the gateway lead?”

  “To Earth, of course,” Tom said, as if this was plain as day.

  “Where is the source?” Alec asked, beginning to see the big picture unfold.

  “Their world. They want to bridge the gap and finish their occupation,” Tom whispered.

  The hair on Alec’s arms stood up. “They aren’t done?”

  “Not even close,” Tom said.

  Monet glanced at Alec then to Cole again. “Tom, are you going to tell them, or do you want me to?”

  Tom grinned, and Alec could sense the uneasy sentiment behind the phony smile. He finally understood. With shorter hair, more sunken cheeks, the face was his own.

  Cole seemed to notice at the same time, and his face paled.

  Chapter 51

  Dex

  The pain was gone. Dex stared at the ceiling, and for the first time in forever, he was at peace. It was probably the large assortment of drugs coursing through his system, and he knew this, but he didn’t care. He could just exist for a moment.

  He remembered being shot, but not much else after the fact. He closed his eyes and watched himself pull the trigger on his Glock, the bullet jarring Kate’s head as it entered her skull. He’d killed her in cold blood, and here he was, chained to a cot as reward.

  At least he was alive and within the confines of the Reclaimers. He glanced down, seeing the bandage on his chest. He felt strange without his leather jacket and found it hanging on the opposite wall, filling him with relief. Underneath his handcuff, he felt the metal band tight over his ID tag. They’d been smart enough to make his tracking disappear.

  He drifted in and out of consciousness for what felt like days. He had a nurse visit a few times, and he noticed how cautious she was with him. A guard stepped in with her each time, and he never let go of his gun. They had every right to be careful around him. He was a Hunter. He hated himself for his part in the Occupation, especially after finding out the vermin terrorists were this: a real group of professionals with supplies, soldiers, weapons, and a hideout.

  If he could take it all back, he would, but now he had to convince them. The next time the nurse entered, he talked to her for the first time. “Can I speak with someone in charge?” he asked.

  She ignored him, and he settled into the pillow. The room was made of concrete blocks, a fluorescent light hung from chains on the ceiling. There were no windows, only a thick locking door, where a guard seemed perched at all times.

  Dex was feeling better, stronger, and they began to bring him real food, soup at first, then potatoes, vegetables, and even eggs.

  On what he thought was the fourth day, Dex heard the door open. “Look, I really need to speak to someone at the top of the food chain,” he grumbled, and the door closed, this time with a man, no armed escort.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m here,” the man said. He was gray-haired with a trim beard that suited him. His eyes were hazel, hard, and he knew how to use them for intimidation.

  Dex couldn’t believe it, but he was afraid of the old man. He almost laughed at the idea.

  He waited for the man to speak again, giving all the power to him. Dex wasn’t in a position to play games.

  “You’re a Hunter,” he said, not making it a question.

  Dex sat up in the bed, propping the pillows behind his head. His chest ached where the bullet hit him. They’d told him it had lodged in a rib, and that he’d be sore for a while. He was lucky it hadn’t killed him. His arm was bandaged better too, where he’d been shot by the female Roamer last week.

  “I was a hunter,” Dex answered.

  The man’s eyebrow raised at this. “And what changed?”

  “It changed when I saw Kate, another Hunter, kill one of your friends, and start attacking the other two. It changed when I shot her point blank in the face.” Dex’s hands trembled as he remembered the moment.

  “I see. I heard about this from Alec. He was confused by the entire scenario.” The man walked over to the bedside. “My name’s Tom.”

  “Dex,” he said, sticking his hand out, the handcuffs clinking against the bed rail. Tom didn’t shake it, and Dex dropped his arm.

  “Why should I trust you, Dex?” Tom asked.

  He shrugged, feeling the pain in his ribs again. “You shouldn’t.”

  “What do you want out of life?” Tom asked.

  “What everyone does. To survive,” Dex told him.

  “And what are you willing to do to make sure that happens?” Tom faced the door for a moment, and Dex spotted the glint of the gun tucked behind the man’s back.

  “Anything,” Dex said truthfully.

  “You see, there’s something we differ on, Dex.”

  “What’s that?” Dex didn’t like where this conversation was going.

  “You said you want to survive, but there’s so much more to all of this than you or I. It’s about them. The people. The workers, the breeders, the children growing up in this hell. People like us should be stopping this. Changing it. Recovering our world. Get it?”

  And Dex finally did. He nodded, shame filling his very being. He wiped his face with his unchained palm, feeling the grit of his unshaven cheeks. “How can I help?”

  “I’m not sure you can,” Tom said, turning away from him.

  “There has to be a way,” Dex said, and remembered
the little piece of information. “Does the name Trent James mean anything to you?”

  Tom spun around quickly. “Where do you know that name from?”

  “I was the one sent to bring him in,” Dex said.

  “He’s dead, then?”

  Dex nodded. “Not by me. The Trackers came, and even though I had him in my possession on a sanctioned hunt, they killed him. I tried to stop them.”

  “We turned him. A year ago. He started helping us transfer people around. He’s the reason Monet and the others were able to get to Detroit,” the man said, but Dex didn’t follow. “A lot of information died with that man.”

  Dex cleared his throat. “I may be able to help with that.”

  “Is that so?” Tom asked.

  Dex had no choice. He mentioned the locker James had spoken about waiting for him in Nebraska, but left out some of the details.

  “Where exactly is it?” Tom asked.

  Dex had to play the game. “I’ll bring you guys to it, but I want a deal.”

  Tom appeared to contemplate this before answering. “What do you want?”

  “I want to be part of this. I want to join the Reclaimers.”

  “We might be able to do that. What else?”

  “I want to head the locker retrieval mission,” he said without pause.

  Tom now stuck his hand out and shook Dex’s. His grip was firm. That was too easy. This man knew what was inside the locker, and it had to be vital to the operation’s success. Dex wondered just what it was he’d gotten himself mixed into.

  Epilogue

  Tom rolled the inactive Tracker on its side, reading the first few digits of its ID tag. “SW-18…” They could make use of the tool, rebuilt it to infiltrate the Occupation. Yes, they were on the right track.