Relapse (Breakers Book 7)

by Edward W. Robertson

  "Any kind of attack is out," Sam said.

  "And there's no other way in."

  "So we create a diversion," Tristan said. "Send Sam and Dr. Gohel to the front entrance to thrash around. Once the aliens go to investigate, we'll grab Sprite."

  Ness quirked his mouth. "You really think they're all gonna rush out there at once? Or are they more likely to send up a few troops while the others stick around here—only now they're on high alert?"

  "Do you have a better idea?"

  He licked his lips. "A good idea? No. A better idea? Maybe. They got no hearing. It's pitch black in there. The only way they'll know I'm there is if they sense me moving. So what if I just move as slowly as possible?"

  Her jaw dropped. "Then they won't even have to run to catch you."

  "The aliens are asleep. They're tucked in their holes. I can do this."

  Tristan's eyes shifted between his. "Know what? I think you can, too. Just promise me that if the Swimmers start to get up, you run straight back here. No heroics. You wouldn't stand a chance."

  "I promise." He smiled at her. "Back in a jiff."

  She switched off the flashlight. He put the night vision to his eye and stepped into the garage, letting the door clang shut behind him. He paused, ears straining to hear any shift of tentacles. The air smelled damp and brackish, with hints of the fiddler crabs he'd once kept in his aquarium. The area around the stairwell was clear, but ahead, there were two openings in the maze of alien walls.

  "Okay, Sprite," Ness said, moving his mouth as little as he could. "You know that song you were singing when we showed up? The one that drives me crazy? I need you to belt that out. Don't let up until we're looking each other in the eye."

  "Roger."

  Ahead and to the right, Sprite cleared his throat and began to sing his Chinese pop song, complete with falsetto. Ness headed toward the right-hand opening, moving as if he were in slow motion, or trying to walk through a room filled with strawberry Jell-O. He'd never tried anything like it and he soon found it more effort than running.

  He entered the hallway. Walls rose to either side. In the green-shaded night vision, he couldn't tell if the alien matter was blue or orange. As Sprite's slightly off-key voice continued to echo through the chamber, Ness quickly realized he was being an idiot. He didn't need to take big, loping, slow-mo steps that would soon leave him exhausted. All he had to do was sort of shuffle along. In fact, if he tucked his arms to his sides like a penguin, he could basically glide over the bare concrete floor.

  Changing his gait didn't make him go any faster, but it made things much easier. After twenty feet, he reached a T-intersection and made another right. This dead-ended immediately. He about-faced and tried the other branch. This curled past three holes in the walls. As Ness shuffled past, he held his breath. He wanted to yell at Sprite to shut up a second, but didn't want to risk the movement of his throat.

  Beyond the silent holes, the passage curved back to the right. Sprite's voice was growing louder, clearer. The hall fed into a circular room thirty feet across. Ness stopped. The entire circumference was studded with sleeping-holes. Along the walls, low-slung alien chairs stood before what appeared to be human-standard desks. These were festooned with alien monitors and control decks. At a glance, everything appeared to be turned off or in sleep mode. Ness moved on.

  Sprite finished the song and started over. Another hall led to another T-joint. Sprite was clearly to the right, bawling on without a drop less enthusiasm than when he'd begun. Ness' soles scraped over the floor. The walls were blank, free of holes. He came to a dead end.

  "Sprite?" he said.

  Sprite quit singing. "Holy cow man, you're like right outside. Can you see my hand?"

  "No. Now quit moving around. If you draw one of them out, I'm screwed."

  He slid up to the wall and put the night vision away, thrusting himself into darkness. He slowly raised his hands above his head. Fully extended, he was just able to get a grip on the rubbery top of the wall. He waited here, certain a tentacle was about to crush him around his middle and thrash him around like a rag doll.

  Ten seconds later, he lifted his foot against the wall and pulled himself up inch by inch. Halfway up, his arms began to tremble, triceps burning. He increased his pace and got a shoulder over the top. With the weight off his arms, he slowed back down.

  Once he was seated on the top of the wall, he got out the night vision. Sprite was right below him in a box eight feet to a side. His non-peg leg was connected to the wall by a rubbery cord.

  "I see you," Ness murmured. "Be right down."

  He put away the scope and lowered himself inside the box. Sprite laughed and groped around to hug him.

  "One question," Sprite said. "Did you really just walk in here on your own?"

  "It was the best option we had."

  "You crazy bastard. You're amazing."

  "Thanks," Ness said. "Now take off your shirt."

  "Hey, I'm not that happy to see you."

  "I'm gonna laser through that shackle on your leg. When I do that, it's going to light this place up like Las Vegas. I need you to hold your shirt right over the laser to block out as much light as possible."

  "Gotcha." Clothing ruffled; he thrust a shirt into Ness' hands.

  Ness stripped off his own shirt and kneeled down. He got out the night vision scope and directed Sprite into position with the two shirts stretched a foot above the cord. Ness got down on his side to see beneath the shirts. He drew his laser, aimed it at the base of the cord, then lowered the scope from his eye. He closed his eyes to the darkness, prayed he wasn't about to slice off Sprite's remaining foot, and squeezed the buttons.

  Light pulsed against his closed eyelids, but it was highly diffused by the shirts. Ness got out the scope and checked on his work. Ten inches of cut cord dangled from Sprite's ankle.

  "All done," Ness said. "Let's get the hell out of here."

  He spent a minute versing Sprite on how to shuffle around in a manner that wouldn't wake the Swimmers. Once Sprite got the hang of it, Ness boosted him up the side of the enclosure and followed him over. They only had the one night vision, so Ness grabbed Sprite's hand, guiding him down the tunnel. Sprite's peg leg scraped steadily over the concrete.

  "You're sure they can't hear that?" Sprite said. "Because right now I feel like I'm dragging the Sword of the Damned behind me."

  "Sword of the Damned?"

  "Yeah, like from anime, when the guy's got the sword that's so heavy with fate that he can't lift it until it's time to strike? So it scrapes over the floor in this totally ominous way where the bad guys know they're about to get cut in half?"

  "Never heard of it."

  "Man, we have got to get Sebastian to rig up a Blu-ray player."

  Ness had memorized the route in, and though they were moving at the Jell-O-wading pace, at least they didn't make any wrong turns. Once they reached the wide, circular room, he came to a stop.

  "Hang on a sec." He let go of Sprite's hand and shuffled toward the desks.

  "What are you doing?" Sprite whispered.

  "Finding out why they're here. Now stay still."

  With excruciating slowness, he made his way to a desk thick with electronics. The duration of the trip gave him plenty of time to identify an alien computer pad. He picked it up and turned it over, confirming it was turned off, then pocketed it.

  From the nearest wall, something shifted with a leathery rasp.

  "What was that?" Sprite whispered.

  "Just me." Ness headed away from the wall in slow motion, angling toward Sprite. "Keep moving. Come to my voice."

  The noise rasped again.

  "Okay, now you're over there," Sprite said. "But I can't help noticing that sound came from over there."

  Ness glanced over his shoulder. A tentacle slithered free from one of the holes in the walls and waved about like a lost worm.

  He closed on Sprite and grabbed his arm. "Time to beat it."

  "What a
bout moving too slowly for them to sense?"

  Ness pulled Sprite through the exit into the next passage. "Don't worry, they're heavy sleepers. You could blow up an elephant in here and they wouldn't notice."

  Sprite frowned, glancing behind them, but he was blinded by the darkness. Ness pushed himself to a jog. The smack of their feet drowned out any other sound. At that speed, however, he had them out of the maze within seconds. He opened the door and guided Sprite inside.

  "Run!" Ness said.

  Tristan flipped on her light. Her mouth was hanging half open, but to her credit, she didn't hesitate, turning and dashing down the stairs. Gohel scampered after her. Ness gave Sprite a shove toward the steps, Sam lighting the way for them from behind.

  They hit the bottom floor and piled through the door. The instant before it closed, the door to the garage squealed open. The five of them broke into a dead run down the hallway to the plumbing room.

  Tristan glanced over her shoulder. "Tell me you didn't wake them up."

  "Okay," Ness said. "I didn't wake them up."

  "Why does that not convince me?"

  "Because you're a smart girl?"

  They dashed into the room full of pipes and made for the hatch. Sam sealed it behind them. Flashlights lit the way down. Whenever he had a free hand descending the ladder, Ness pressed it to his pocket, keeping the pad in place. They reached the bottom. On first making it into the tower, they'd stripped off their filthy makeshift waders, but there was no time to strap on new ones. They hopped into the sludgy water at the base of the tunnel and splashed toward the intersection to the main line.

  "A suggestion," Gohel said. "We may wish to exit further from the building than we came in."

  "Do you remember your way around down here?" Tristan said.

  "Certainly. At one point, my life depended on it."

  Tristan remained at point, but Gohel provided directions. They ran past the ladder they'd used to descend from the street. Ness' shoes were soaked, heavy with gunk. It smelled like two scoops of awful, but he was too beat to care.

  After a few blocks, they slowed to a walk. Gohel located a ladder to the surface. The night air smelled so good Ness wanted to sprinkle it on some ice cream. Back on the street, they jogged southeast toward the dock where they'd left the sub. Given the events of the last few days, a large part of Ness expected the vessel to be gone, but it was parked unmolested right where they'd left it.

  He knocked the secret pattern on the hatch. Lionel opened it, pistol in hand. He saw them and grinned. "Am I seeing everyone? Tell me I'm seeing everyone."

  "Safe and sound," Ness said. "Now let's get out of here before disaster catches up with us for a tenth time."

  At the bottom of the ramp, he shucked off his slimy shoes and ran down to the control room. "We're good," he signed to Sebastian. "Make way for New Zealand."

  Sebastian saluted with one tentacle and spun up the sub. They drifted away from the dock and motored toward the bay.

  "AND SPRITE," Sebastian signed. "WE HAVE HIM AGAIN?"

  "Safe and sound. Got something else for you, too." Ness got the pad from his pocket and handed it over. "Thought you might be able to grab a peek at what the Swimmers are up to."

  The alien bent over the tablet. "I WILL PEEK. NOW WASH. YOU SMELL LIKE PEOPLE-SHIT"

  Ness headed off to shower. It was without doubt the best of his life. After, he went to his bunk, but exhausted as he was, his mind refused to slow down. He was hungry, too. He headed to the galley to rustle up some algae.

  "What's up?" Tristan said from the gloom. "Can't sleep?"

  "Jesus! No, but after the heart attack you just gave me, I may be headed for the big sleep."

  She poked at something green on her plate. "It's weird, isn't it? This has been one of the longest days of my life, but now it's like my body doesn't want it to be over."

  Ness got a tub of algae from the alien refrigeration unit and plopped it on a plate. "It probably doesn't know the fight's over. Still thinks it might have to sock a T. rex in the jaw."

  Tristan chuckled. "Nice work down there. Wasn't sure we were going to pull it off."

  "Well, if we didn't go after him, he was never getting out of there."

  "I know that. But I also know you're not…" She gestured vaguely.

  "What?"

  "A born hero?"

  "Are you?"

  "No." She laughed. "No, I'm not. So hey, we've still got some Goose in the cabinet. I am going to drink a lot of it and if I do so by myself, it's going to make me feel pathetic."

  "I'll take one for the team."

  Tristan moved to the cabinet, rolled up the door, and got a bottle and two glasses from their niches. She poured a generous amount into both and clunked one in front of Ness.

  "To being back together," Tristan said.

  They clinked glasses. She downed half of hers in one go. Ness matched her, then set down his glass, throat clenching and burning. He didn't drink much and the taste, as always, reminded him of Kristin. Of going down to the Columbia River at night with her home-brewed beer and putting back a few bottles while they watched the bright stars and the black water.

  He hadn't seen her in over six years, and while the regret of leaving her had soothed, it was still there. Not that he thought he shouldn't have left Hanford—their little crew had already saved the world from a second virus, so it was hard to argue with that one. Even so, it felt like when he'd left the power plant, he'd left behind his one shot at a normal life.

  Or as normal it got these days, anyway.

  "What do you think they were doing back there?" Tristan gestured her glass toward the sub's aft, back in the direction of Sydney.

  "Beats me. But we may be able to figure it out. I stole one of their tablets. Sebastian's got it right now."

  "You stole one of their tablets? You rock, man."

  Tristan finished her glass. So did Ness. She poured him another, then sat in the booth they'd installed in the galley. He sat across from her and took a long drink from his glass. He was already buzzed. He knew he'd have no trouble sleeping by the end of the second glass.

  "So where are we headed?" Tristan said. "New Zealand?"

  "Yeah."

  "Have we been there before?"

  "You don't remember the time I made us go to Hobbiton?"

  She laughed. "But we've never been there on business. Wonder what kind of village they've got going."

  "Here's a wild guess: it's shitty."

  "It can't be that bad. Dr. Gohel wants to move there."

  "That's not exactly a ringing endorsement," Ness said. "Up until a few days ago, he was living alone in a pirate-infested forest."

  Tristan laughed some more, then drank. Her grin shrank to something smaller. "Ever think we're fools for doing this?"

  "Designating ourselves as the Alien Police?"

  "Exactly."

  "What else are we gonna do?"

  She hunched her shoulders high. "Why not join a little enclave somewhere on the New Zealand coast? Or do like my brother did. Go hide somewhere. Meet someone. If there's anyone left worth meeting."

  Ness lifted his glass to his mouth. "What makes a person worth meeting?"

  "Mostly? They just have to be sane."

  "Careful with your standards there. Raise them any higher, and they might break the surface."

  She snorted. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone genuinely sane? I'm not talking about someone who agrees with me on everything. What I mean is someone who's… logical. Who knows what's important to them and approaches their goals in a rational, realistic way. Mostly, though, it's about priorities. So many people get hung up on meaningless, petty bullshit. People who can step past that are rare."

  He swirled his cup and finished it. "I think most of the people who've survived this far know how to do that."

  "I don't know about that. I think most people are here because they're lucky. Anyway, just because you know how to start a fire with a soda can and a p
iece of chocolate doesn't mean you know anything about emotional intelligence."

  Noticing his glass was empty, she scooted across the booth and refilled it, then her own. She left the bottle uncapped. Ness was wearing shorts and he felt his knee brush her jeans. He relaxed his leg and it rested against hers. She sat in profile to him, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, her features heightened by the low light of the galley.

  "Do you think it's possible?" he said. "To do what we do and live like a normal person?"

  "Why not? Is building a meaningful relationship really that much harder than stopping the Swimmers from eradicating us?"

  She turned to him, smiling impishly, eyes dancing. Before he could chicken out, he leaned into her and found her mouth. She kissed him back, sliding a hand along his side and taking his ribs in her fingers. He could tell she was stronger than he was. He thought he liked that idea.

  Hyper-rapid footsteps drummed down the hall. Ness pulled away. Tristan leaned back, blank-faced, and reached for her drink. Sebastian burst into the galley, tentacles spread wide.

  "NESS YOU ARE NOT IN YOUR BUNK"

  "A brilliant deduction," Ness signed. "What do you want?"

  "TO FIND YOU AND TO TELL YOU"

  "Well, you found me. How about you skip ahead to the telling?"

  "I READ WHAT YOU BROUGHT ME," Sebastian gestured. "THE SWIMMERS GATHER BECAUSE THEY ARE CALLED. THE TIME HAS COME. MUCH AS THERE WAS A SECOND VIRUS, NOW THERE IS A SECOND WAR"

  20

  Raina lowered her voice. "It won't be as simple as that. If Lady Winslowe is slain, they'll point their fingers at me regardless of my guilt. Even if you take the throne, your people will never agree to aid me in retaking San Pedro."

  "No shit." Cinder snapped her fingers. "Hey, have you considered poison?"

  "What you ask is impossible. I killed their king. If the would-be queen dies as well, it will appear as though I came here not to apologize, but to finish the job."

  "Yep. Impossible." Cinder flipped the figurine of the black-cowled man into the air. "Or maybe you need to crank the imagination up to eleven."