Garrick: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Earth Resistance Book 1)

by Theresa Beachman

  “We’re completely out-gunned here.” He shook his head. “This was meant to be obtain-the-secret-weapons-shit-and-get-out. Done. Then we turn up, and it turns into a freaking carnival sideshow.” He stopped, his thoughts churning. “They knew we were coming,” he said eventually.

  Anna huffed out a breath. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “What if the Chittrix are here for a reason? There seems to be a hell of a lot of them for it to be a coincidence.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said as she peered over his shoulder. Garrick followed her line of sight. Three Chittrix near the primary entrance were lifting into the air, and suspended beneath them was a long parcel, bound in opaque white webbing. Garrick tried unsuccessfully to mentally block out the similarity to the webbing spiders used to restrain prey.

  “That’s body shaped,” Anna whispered.

  The white body-thing disappeared into the mass of Scutters that hovered and vibrated in the sky. They surrounded the disappearing parcel, obscuring it until it was no longer visible.

  “Three,” she said. “You have three team members. I have two, Blake and Julia. They’re all still out there somewhere.” Her voice had gone up a few octaves in fear. “We can’t leave.” She retreated from him. “We need to find them.”

  He grabbed her shirt at the small of her back and pulled her against him behind the car. The generous swell of her breasts rose against his chest, momentarily distracting him.

  He gripped her chin, his fingers pressing into her skin so that she paid attention as he spoke. “We can’t go out there. It’s suicide. We’re no use to anyone if we’re dead.” He paused, waiting for her to acknowledge him with the smallest of nods. “My men can take care of themselves and your team members. What I can do is take you somewhere safe.”

  He continued. “We have location transmitters on our wrists.” He showed her the compact device strapped to his wrist with ribbed nylon.

  “We can be tracked from our base with these. The most likely thing they’ll do is head to safety, just like we’re going to do now. There’s nothing for anyone to gain from going back in there. All of us need to keep moving forward.”

  Garrick tore his eyes from her and took in the seething monster of insects suspended in the sky. A raw knot lodged itself in his belly as he thought of his men out there somewhere. Not again. He pushed the thought away. He had no time to think about that now.

  “We need to go. There’s only a little light left, and we’re easy picking once it’s dark.”

  11

  “How much further?” Anna gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

  She’s keeping up and not complaining.

  Garrick stopped with his back to her as he scanned the open fields. Raising his binoculars, he switched them to night vision. Dark and quiet. No indication of alien activity. For now, anyway. They’d made it out of Magdon Down but now faced the open countryside in the rapidly approaching night.

  He turned to her, his face set. “It’s about another mile to the TSV.”

  “In English, please.”

  “Tactical Support Vehicle. Giant jeep-thing with grenade launchers, ballistic protection, and a load of other useful stuff.”

  “Ah.” She nodded and wiped a stray strand of hair from her eyes, then stood, straightening her back. “Well, as long as it has seats and an engine it’s a winner as far as I’m concerned. Anything else is a bonus.”

  Garrick remained silent, reluctant to become involved on a personal level. He would escort her to safety, but that didn’t include conversation or in-flight snacks.

  When he’d joined the survivors at the CB with Violet, he’d been willing to take on a new role helping to defend the base and find survivors and supplies in the broken landscape of southern England. But he was a changed man since the invasion. He was confident in his ability as a soldier, but that was where it stopped. He took in the sweeping honey-coloured hair and plump lips that begged to be crushed under his. The safest way to get her back is with my mouth shut.

  There was one more field to cross before they hit the outskirts of suburbia. It stretched out in front of them like a huge, blank screen. Everything was silent, all the usual outside sounds absent. He was aware the chemical toxicity from Agent S had killed many of the indigenous animals within London, and that scavengers were pillaging further afield, but still, the silence was unnerving.

  They jogged round the edge, hugging the boundary hedging for shelter, then cut through a derelict garden onto the residential streets. Garrick navigated without a wrong turn, feeling instinctively where he was going, quick and efficient on his feet.

  Finally, they walked through red wrought-iron gates: a primary school. Here the lack of human life became more poignant. A small group of tricycles huddled under a bike shelter, waiting for children that were never going to come. Garrick wasn’t sure if a future remained for children at all. Once he had thought he wanted kids and had treasured the time he spent with his five-year-old niece. Hattie was gone now, along with her mother, Tom’s wife, dead in the first weeks. More lives he had not been able to protect.

  He led Anna through a large brick arch between two of the school buildings into a small quadrangle. Classrooms faced into the square on all sides. Rainbows of handprints were Blu-Tacked to the windows, and books and beanbags piled up against the glass. A porch roof ran the perimeter of the buildings, sheltering the doors and windows from the weather, and on the far side, the dark shape of the TSVs was outlined. Garrick took the long route to the other side of the quad, keeping the porch roof above his head, and glanced up at the deceptive velvet of the night sky.

  Anna followed. “Where now?”

  “Here,” he answered.

  She blinked. “What do you mean here? What’s here? There’s nothing…” she stopped.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  He nodded and walked forward, securing his MP5 on his back. He pushed rigid hands across his head in frustration, locking his fingers behind his head so he didn’t punch something.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he swore into the damp night air. He turned and stalked across the quad in the opposite direction, this time in full view of the night sky.

  Chittrix had trashed the TSVs. Had they followed the team here?

  He stormed back across the square, no longer caring if anyone or anything saw him. He slammed to a halt in front of the incinerated vehicles.

  Some metal was still a buff-sand colour, but that was where the resemblance to a functioning vehicle stopped. Both vehicles had been reduced to a twisted mass of blackened metal. One of the man-high tyres on the Coyote was still intact, and there was a vague turret-shape of what had been the weapons mount, but everything else looked like it had been roasted in an oven. The smaller Jackal was barely recognisable.

  Anna squatted next to him, her fingers trailing in the gritty earth. She rubbed her eyes, her face weary with exhaustion. The adrenalin overdose from earlier combined with a panicked cross-country run in the dark had clearly drained her.

  Her head drooped to her knees and her shoulders sagged with the enormity of their discovery.

  “I’m done,” she said.

  Garrick moved next to her in a gesture of comfort, reaching down and pulling her to her feet. She rose at his touch, his hand circling her wrist easily. She gave him a small smile but ducked her face as tears shimmered in her eyes. The sight of her trembling with emotion derailed his train of thought.

  Her scent filled his brain, spicy and sweet at the same time, apples mixed with cinnamon. Distracting and compelling. An unexpected blaze of heat coursed through his belly and thighs as his breathing hitched, her scent disarming him for several seconds. What would it be like to bury his mouth on that creamy throat and breathe her in?

  He stepped away, overwhelmed by the emotion she aroused in him. He couldn’t remember a woman ever having such an immediate effect upon him. Just take her to safety, Garrick. The last thing she needs a head case like you. He waited for self
-control to reassert itself.

  “Now what?” she asked, sounding strong again. Order restored.

  His shutters came back down. “Let’s see what we can salvage from the TSVs. Then we need to find somewhere safe to rest.”

  12

  Anna’s lungs were just about bursting. Her side protested with every step she took, and her heart was almost breaking her rib cage.

  “Stop,” she said. “I need to walk for a bit.” She bent over, taking short, heaving breaths, trying to find some equilibrium in her over-taxed body. Six months hanging about in the labs hasn’t done much for your physical fitness, Anna. Loose hair fell in her eyes. She glanced up. Garrick was silent and motionless beside her. A predator with endless patience. In comparison, her mind was a scary jumble. He seems so sure of himself, but can I trust him? It’s not like he’s forthcoming about what we’re doing.

  She wasn’t used to relying on anyone else and being here with him, reliant on him like this, made her uncomfortable. She ran a hand across the small of her back, feeling the SIG holster. It gave her a small feeling of security that she was still able to take care of herself.

  Standing up, her sides still heaving, she swiped hair from her forehead. It was sticky with exertion and the body armour wasn’t helping either. Anna studied her surroundings. They were far into a residential suburb she had never seen before. Dark windows regarded her on every side. Bins overflowing with rubbish filled the road. Disturbed rats scuttled from the refuse and past their feet.

  She tried not to stare, but Garrick was barely out of breath, and they had been running for the last half-hour or so without a break. His broad chest moved smoothly and evenly despite the backpack on his shoulder, which contained the heavy remains of a radio he’d salvaged from the trashed vehicles. Don’t goggle Anna. She looked away, not wanting him to be aware of her scrutiny.

  The men she’d worked with at Magdon Down were mostly nerds or mouthy, arrogant bastards who thought everyone should do as they say. They made it easy to focus on work and avoid any romantic attachment.

  Garrick was neither.

  He was an entirely different beast altogether, one she had never come across in all her thirty-two years. He spoke the bare minimum and moved with an easy athleticism. She’d never been so unnerved by a man and so aware of his presence. He’d flicked some switch within her that she’d never been aware of.

  She ran a hand through her misbehaving hair, and then stopped. What am I doing? This was insane. Chittrix had just stormed her lab, and they were out in the open running for their lives. She didn’t have time for this. Her research. That’s what she was about. Using the armour to fight back at the Chittrix.

  She started walking again, waiting for Garrick to explain where they were going. But he remained silent, his head scanning the sky and buildings as they walked. I give up.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He glanced round at her. “My team is based at the Command Base near Salisbury. It’s a safe bunker. There are other survivors.”

  Anna contemplated this. “How do you know if we’re going the right way?”

  He pointed at the stars. “We’re heading west. That’s good enough just now. We can worry about specifics later. I don’t want to stop yet.”

  Irritation flickered through her at his vagueness. She tried to swallow the feeling in the best interests of getting along and staying alive.

  Nope. Not going to work. “Well, I’m glad you’ve decided what you think is best and applied that for the benefit of both of us. I have an opinion too,” she said.

  Garrick didn’t answer. He checked over his shoulder with an air of bemusement. Anna’s blood pressure skyrocketed. She clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. Who the hell does he think he is?

  She cleared her throat. Let’s get this straight. He’d had a map earlier at the school. “Let me see your map.”

  “We don’t need the map.”

  “Well, I’m happy for you. I want the map.”

  He stopped, turned, and faced her. He was so tall. What was he, six-two, six-three? He towered over her, his broad torso in her face. The rise and fall of his chest transfixed her.

  “Are you really going to do this here?” he said in a tone of mild amusement.

  She started, lost for a moment, her mind playing over the way he sounded and tempted her. Desire shimmered over her skin. “Do what?” she countered, trying to remain focused on something other than his physical presence. It wasn’t working; his masculinity kept derailing her thoughts.

  “Start messing about who’s in charge?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you want to head out on your own, you’re more welcome. But if you stay with me, I say what goes.” He turned and walked away.

  Indignation boiled furiously over her. “You … arrogant bastard,” she squawked, struggling to find the words to express herself. “Don’t speak to me like I’m stupid. I’m well aware of the dangers—”

  Garrick stopped dead, head tilted for a split second. He turned without warning and was on her in an instant, warm hand across her mouth, halting her tirade.

  “Quiet,” he breathed hot in her ear.

  What the?

  Anna struggled, trying to wrench his hand from her mouth.

  He pulled her hands away, restraining her against his solid body. His machete dug uncomfortably into her backside.

  “Mmmpf.” She tried to speak, but his hand was immoveable. She wasn’t going to be able to say anything until he let her. What is he playing at? Tormented memories of team members raped and left for dead on the street after failed reconnaissance missions flew through her mind. She dug back into his abdomen with her elbows. God, the man was made of rock.

  He began to drag her backwards to the building behind them. Her heels scrabbled and caught on the road as she tried to resist him, her pulse spiking with fear. He hit a door without pausing, and before she knew what was happening, she was already in the front hall of a small, terraced house.

  Wallpaper hung in strips from the ceiling where rain had soaked through gouges in the floor above. Thin warped lines of black mould ran in tendrils across the walls. Two doors were ajar, one just behind her, and another further down the hall that was half-open.

  He spun her round and slammed her up against the wall, one arm pinned against her rib cage, pressing her into the spongy wallpaper while the other remained firm across her mouth. His face was inches from hers. Anger flashed in his eyes.

  “I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, but you are going to be completely quiet, and then we might stay alive. Do you understand?” His voice was low and full of threat, barely more than a whisper.

  She nodded but wasn’t listening. Her mind was already running down a rabbit warren of panic. Let me go.

  He released the pressure on her mouth, the imprint of his fingers still warm on her cheek. At last, he lifted his forearm from her chest and raised his finger.

  Anna didn’t wait to find out what he was signalling. She lifted her knee fast, connecting with his groin as forcefully as possible. A soft grunt escaped his lips, and he doubled forward, releasing her. Pushing him away, she ran down the hall, hurtling towards the half-open door, blood roaring in her ears. She yanked it fully open into a room with two small easy-chairs and a decrepit rug on the floor. A dirty window at the back framed an overgrown thicket of garden.

  He hit her from behind, the full force of his body knocking her to the floor, smacking the air out of her lungs and flattening her with his weight. He was unyielding against her back and thighs and heavy as hell.

  “Get. Off. Me.”

  I can still move my legs.

  She kicked backwards, frantic with fear, then froze.

  A male voice, and not Garrick. Outside. Weedy and nasal but definitely male. “I’m telling you, man, I heard something.”

  Scavengers. Bands of men willing to take what they wanted, when they wanted. Scavenging for food. Weapons. And women, the new commodity.


  Softer, indistinct grumblings. Another, heavier, male voice. The clicking and ratcheting of weapons being reloaded. Shadows slipped across the wall as figures passed outside the open window.

  “You’re imagining it. I heard nothing.”

  The nasal voice again. “It was a fucking woman, I’m telling you. She’ll be hiding after all the noise you made getting over here.”

  The deeper-voiced man grunted in reply as they passed the window. Light flooded back into the room, illuminating the grimy carpet. A money spider strolled past Anna’s face, oblivious. Gritty footsteps scraped on the concrete outside. It was impossible to tell if they were leaving.

  Garrick shifted his weight slightly, sliding off onto the floor beside her. The weight and heat of him pressing against her body was gone and a chill raced up her spine. He remained flat beside her, turning his face and catching her eye, a furrow knotting his brow.

  Shit. Heat reddened her cheeks. He must think I’m an idiot. No, I am an idiot. She closed her eyes in humiliation, but when she opened them he was still there and he hadn’t left her. His scent of sweat and leather invaded her mind. The wind had faded outside, and everything in the night was still. Blood rushed in her ears, and her stomach rumbled. She waited for Garrick to indicate it was safe to move.

  After an eternity of lying on the hairy carpet with dust clogging her nose, he finally raised himself into a crouch and indicated for her to do the same. She got up on her hands and knees and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Thick black dust smeared her skin and stuck to her clothes. Garrick stood up and pulled her to her feet. He placed a finger against her lips to silence any choice words she had to say.

  He began to back out the room and into the hall, away from where the voices had originated. Once in the hall, he motioned for her to stay near. She followed closely, her feet bumping up against his. She wasn’t going to be stupid twice.

  He halted in the porch between the inner door and the main outside door, scanning the street in front of them.