RECLAMATION
©2020 NATHAN HYSTAD & DEVON C. FORD
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Contents
ALSO IN SERIES
Prologue
1. Alec
2. Cole
3. Dex
4. Alec
5. Cole
6. Fan
7. Lina
8. Alec
9. Cole
10. Lina
11. Alec
12. Sylvie
13. Cole
14. Alec
15. Cole
16. Lina
17. Jack
18. Sw-18
19. Cole
20. Dex
21. Zhao
22. Dex
23. Cole
24. Alec
25. Cole
26. Dex
27. Cole
28. Alec
29. Sw-18
30. Alec
31. Cole
32. Jack
33. Lina
34. Cole
35. Alec
36. Lina
37. Cole
38. Alec
39. Cole
40. Dex
41. Alec
FROM THE PUBLISHER
About Nathan
About Devon
ALSO IN SERIES
OCCUPATION
SALVATION
You’re reading: RECLAMATION
Prologue
Sylvie
The wind rustled Sylvie’s hair into her eyes as she strolled across the narrow road. She carefully stepped over the chunks of rubble where small trees grew from the cracks in the faded black lane.
It was going to be a hot one, but that wasn’t uncommon in the South of France, and judging by the looming dark clouds, a storm was about to accompany the heat. A finch casually sang on a branch stretching from an immense poplar tree, and she glanced at the bird, smiling at its tune.
Everywhere Sylvie turned, nature was taking over the Earth. It was almost poetic justice. She was too young to recall much of the old world, but she’d seen enough to know that perhaps this was better.
Her pack’s strap rubbed against her shoulder and she shifted the weight to the other side as she entered the forest. She’d found some useful supplies this time. Once a month, she traveled alone to scour distant villages, and this week had been fruitful.
She used to go out with a partner, and her thoughts drifted to the man, his piercing blue eyes, the strong wide shoulders. She blinked away the memory, as it would inevitably bring her into a cycle of despair. He’d been dead for three years and it was time to forget him. The robot’s bullets had ended his life, along with her dreams of a future.
A twig snapped, and she dropped her pack silently, bringing her rifle up with practiced efficiency. She moved from side to side, never lowering the scope from her eye, until she was confident it was clear.
“Sylvie, it’s me, Maxime.” His voice carried through the trees, and she spotted the young man leaning against a poplar, trying to catch his breath.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” she asked, grabbing her pack and jogging over to him.
“Gabriel sent me to look for you.” Maxime’s skin was pallid, sweat sheening his forehead. He wiped his dark hair from his face, and from the look in his eyes, it was obvious something terrible had happened.
“What is it? Did the aliens attack?” she asked, her pulse racing.
Maxime caught his breath, shaking his head. “No. Nothing like that. It’s a message.”
“A message?” Sylvie asked, and passed her nearly empty bottle of water into his shaking hand.
“The Americans. They are asking everyone to rise against the invaders.” Maxime had regained his composure, and she urged him forward, toward their home.
Home. The word’s meaning was almost lost on her these days.
“How? If we received a message, it must have come through the alien network,” she said, her feet moving faster.
“That’s what Gabriel said too. We’ve recorded it. You’ll have to judge for yourself,” Max said, struggling to keep pace with her. The trip took a couple hours, but eventually, their surroundings were familiar.
The trees grew thicker here, and Sylvie smelled food on the spit. Despite the urgent news, her stomach grumbled at the scent of freshly roasted meat. People were lingering about, and the moment they saw her enter camp, they rushed at her, talking over one another. She could hardly understand what they were saying as she pressed through them, heading past the dozens of sturdy cabins to the end of camp.
Gabriel stood in the doorway, a grim expression on his face.
“Is it true?” she asked, dropping her supplies to the dirt path.
“Come and see.” He waved her inside, but Maxime remained behind, chatting with the others.
Gabriel’s dwelling doubled as the colony’s headquarters, and she glanced at her desk along the side of the cabin, paper notes piled high during her week away.
“You’re going to want to sit for this,” Gabriel said, indicating his chair. She obeyed, the wood creaking as she leaned forward. He pulled up another seat and activated his series of monitors. The camp had limited energy and used the entire set of solar powers to keep tabs on the aliens’ movements and operations. It was the only reason so many of them lived in the South of France.
The image appeared, an old uniformed man staggering toward another man, this one in a suit. They spoke in English, and Gabriel had already embedded the translation in the file. Their words scrolled over the bottom of the screen in French, and she read as much as she watched.
The image changed, showing a familiar face. “Is this the one from early on?” she asked, remembering seeing the videos when she was a little girl, being held by her father’s strong arms. They hadn’t been powerful enough to keep her sister or mother alive, or himself.
“This is Travis Mason,” Gabriel said, and she examined the rest of the footage, noticing the other man say he was Tom Mason, a Marine Colonel, and asking everyone to rise against the Occupation. He
was executed, a gunshot to the head, and she felt the tear streaming down her face before she even realized she was crying.
Gabriel’s hand settled on her shoulder, and the flying camera showed the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen. The glowing blue energy crackled, flares of power coursing out as an alien vessel emerged from the gateway. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of the invaders in the field, and she was sickened by the sight of so many in one place.
The video ended, and it began to replay. “What do we do?” she asked Gabriel. He sat there, blankly staring at the screen before speaking.
“We do as he asks. Because what else is there? Keep hiding in the forest like animals?” he asked quietly.
Her blood thrummed in her ears, and she pictured Adam, his dead eyes watching the sky after the four-legged robot had killed him inside the old farmhouse. He’d clutched a leather-bound book, written by her favorite poet, and she pried it out, leaving his body because there was nothing else to do.
She wiped tears from her cheeks, resolve firming in her spine. “Tell the others. Send messages to the enclaves. It’s time to rise.”
Fan
Fan peered out the window, wondering how much longer there was in his shift. Smoke billowed thickly, blotting out most of the sunlight, making it difficult to tell. They’d been pushing production for the last few weeks, making most of the workers nervous. Fan didn’t really care one way or another.
He ran a hand over his bristly hair and pressed the cap on the medical device. He glanced down the line, seeing there were at least another hundred of the things coming his way, slowly traversing the conveyer belt. Every day, it was the same thing.
Fan stretched his arms, yawning as he saw a commotion at the far end of the warehouse floor.
People were leaving their seats, rushing to the screens near the supervisor’s office. Li had a gun in his hand, and he nervously aimed it at the crowd of workers surrounding his door.
“Everyone back!” he shouted, but they didn’t listen.
People were shouting, talking over one another, and Fan caught a few remarks.
“What is that man doing?”
“That’s Mason, from the invasion.”
Fan recalled the man’s speech, his wife holding the twin babies as a sign of hope, but like everything else, they were most certainly dead.
His mentor had taught him about the before times, but Fan didn’t fully understand a world prior to the alien invasion. Not many did, not in the Chinese manufacturing plants. They were like him: similar in age, docile, and hard-working.
Someone held up a hand and told them he spoke English. The group let the old man named Wei pass through, and he translated the best he could.
Fan watched in horror as the older uniformed man was killed point blank, and images of the vehicles emerging from the glowing portal burned into his mind.
Things would never be the same.
“They’re coming,” Li said, his voice shaking, and he turned off the screen, sending everyone scattering to their workstations. Fan ran, nearly tripping over another worker, but managed to settle at his chair along the belt before the main doors opened. You could hear a pin drop as the alien strode into the room. Its head tilted as it surveyed the space, and Fan almost thought it sniffed the air, as if it could smell their betrayal.
He clicked and gestured toward Li, who nodded his comprehension of the alien language. Fan tried to watch casually, though his hands shook as he pressed the caps on the devices. He thought about their function; how they helped the aliens to breathe.
Without these sprays, they wouldn’t be able to survive on Earth. The alien eventually left, and the room let out a harmonic sigh of relief. By the time the alarm rang out, advising them the shift was ended, Fan’s nerves were fried.
“Can you believe it? What was that portal? I guess we know why production was ramped up,” Biyu said, her hands trembling.
Fan only nodded, catching a glimpse of the vats in the next room. The machines stirred the ingredients, and Fan noted the crates beside the massive stainless-steel barrels. The idea seemed so incredulous, and there was no way he’d ever be able to accomplish it on his own. Still…
“Are you listening?” Biyu asked.
Fan said he was, as they lined up for food. He was passed a full food credit, as they all were, and while he ate, he began formulating a plan that would likely get him killed. For the first time in his life, Fan found himself caring about something.
Jack
Jack tugged on the rod’s handle, reeling the line in a little as the breeze blew chilly northern England air across his brow. He peered at the cooler beside him, half full of freshly caught fish, and he smiled. He’d been around before and had seen how much his parents had struggled to exist. The constant bickering about bills, and dinners, and the future.
Jack took a sip of his beer, sensing a part of him would be content to live this way for the rest of his life.
“How’s it going?” a woman’s voice asked, and her hand settled on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze as Ava kissed the top of his head.
“See for yourself,” he told her, and she let out a tiny sound of delight at the abundance in the cooler.
“You’re going to miss this, aren’t you?” she asked, taking a seat next to him on the log.
“I am.”
“Maybe when it’s over, we can return here. Carry out our lives in solitude,” she suggested. He peered at her, feeling his affection overtake his better judgment.
“What if we stay? Let Daniel leave. He can lead them…”
She placed a finger on his lips, shushing him. “You can’t, Jack. We can’t.”
“I know,” he admitted. “It was worth a try, wasn’t it?” Jack rose from the bench and reeled the line in, taking a last glance across the expanse of Windermere. It was beautiful here, the lake always stocked, the wildlife abundant. The best part was the absence of the Occupation, as the American had called it. Once London had been wiped from the face of the Earth, and the drones had scoured the country, killing everything they could, the aliens hadn’t paid much attention to the UK.
He finished his beer and set the bottle into his pack. Jack made a mental note to tell David how good the last batch was.
The hovercar lingered near the treeline, and he climbed in, waiting for his protection detail to arrive. The Trackers trotted in, one by one, and Ava watched them from the side of her eye. His wife never liked the robots around, even if they had been reprogrammed to suit their needs.
He left the last five from farther down the lakeshore, knowing full well they’d return home soon.
The hovercar shook and vibrated as he powered it up, and soon they were rising into the air, traveling over the copse of trees. A few minutes later, they lowered to the yard behind the castle. Jack still remembered sharing a cramped room with his brother, and now he guessed he was the king of a castle, with a beautiful queen at his side to share the throne with.
“Daddy!” A small boy ran from the cracked walkway, arms outstretched as he arrived.
Daniel was behind Jack’s son, frowning at the running child. “I’m sorry. He took off as soon as he heard the engines.”
Jack picked up his son, spinning around. “Benji, do you want to help me take the fish to the kitchens?”
His son nodded with exaggeration, and Daniel gave Jack a look that meant they needed to talk.
A few others had emerged from the castle, and they began unloading the cooler, the Trackers disembarking to take position along the property lines. Something reflected sunlight from above, and Jack saw the Seekers returning from the lake.
Jack set his son to the ground, and Ava took the boy’s hand, kissing Jack’s cheek. “See you at dinner?”
“Until then,” Jack said, watching his precious family walk toward the castle.
“Jack, you can’t keep leaving like that. Times are tumultuous, and we need to act,” Daniel said.
Jack clapped him on the
shoulder and gave him a smile. “I needed one last day so I don’t forget what we’re doing this for.”
Daniel didn’t seem convinced but took the lead, moving around the grounds toward the rear of the structure. The grass was tended to, the gardens in bloom, sending a wondering aroma through the air as the breeze rustled the flowers.
Jack soaked it all in. The castle was well-fortified, the keep in the center of the stone-walled grounds, and they closed the gate nightly, even though they knew full well the aliens didn’t care if they had locked doors or not.
They moved through the rear entrance, Olivia and Terrance stepping to the side to grant them passage.
“We’ve deciphered the hidden code in the message,” Daniel told him.
“Is that so?” Jack asked, impressed with their abilities.
The pathway led to the keep, and they climbed the tower’s circular staircase to the top level. “It gives us a way to communicate with the Reclaimers, and a location where they’re gathering.”
Jack guessed it was going to come to this, and he waved at the group of people working diligently at their consoles. The entire keep was utilizing solar cells, and the spire on the tower held dozens of varying electronic antennae, half of which Jack didn’t even understand the function of. But the team did, and he trusted them every step of the way.
Rise | Book 3 | Reclamation Page 1