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

by Theresa Beachman

  A wave of emotion overwhelmed her, threatening to pull her apart. She struggled to keep her voice level. He already knew her well.

  “Don’t be so sure of yourself.”

  He grinned, white teeth bright in his muddy face. His arms slipped down to the small of her back, encompassing her. Protecting her. She wanted to just stay there in the safe circle of his body.

  “I am sure of myself.” He winked, and she punched him lightly in the chest.

  “Smart ass.”

  “Seriously.” The tone of his voice shifted, his gunmetal-grey eyes serious and intent, never straying from her face. “I’m not giving up on you. No matter how hard you try to push me away.”

  His lips grazed her temple. “I don’t give up on what I care about. We’ve had these crazy few days. I want more of you now. The chance to get to know you properly.” His fingers found her chin, tilting her face to his.

  She stared back at him. The brutal honesty in his eyes made her skittish.

  “Garrick. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t even know if I can.”

  She pulled out of his grasp and walked a few steps away. She hefted her backpack up on her shoulders, keeping her back to him. He stood silent, not moving, his presence shadowing her.

  “We should get inside. We need reinforcements, and then we need to head back to the hive. We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.

  His sigh was barely audible, a whisper of frustration that scolded her, then he pulled his MP5 and pack from the bike and headed down the concrete block path to the bungalow’s faded red front door. He didn’t hesitate, simply turned the knob and walked inside.

  Anna followed, her throat sore with emotion. She gave the street a final glance. It was silent as a stone, the only thing moving was a torn carrier bag, plastic tumbleweed swooping in the wind.

  She entered through a small porch and expected to find a suburban hallway with ornate wallpaper and dado rails. But the similarity to a normal house stopped at the front door. Instead, she was in a large lightless room, empty save for an enormous red steel door set into the back wall. The paint was scuffed and dull, the plaster of the surrounding wall chipped and gouged. There was no handle, just a black panel set into the frame. The panel itself was the only part that appeared modern or vaguely functioning.

  Exhausted and not quite believing the events of the last days, she reached out, placing her palm flat on the door. It was real. For a moment, she had thought it was just a mirage brought on by fatigue, but the metal was ice-cold under her fingertips, and brittle paint flaked under her touch and fell to the floor. It was a far cry from the sleek sophistication of Magdon Down. Her heart fluttered in her chest. This was it. The end of the line.

  “Here?”

  He nodded. His face was smudged, his hair dirty from the river, and there was a small scratch on his temple where blood had dried to a rusty crescent. She’d never seen anything more perfect in her life. She didn’t want to go inside the door or the intimate adventure they were on to end, despite the frequent near-death encounters.

  “Here,” he replied. “There are bigger access points a bit further north for vehicles and such, but this is the closest foot access. Welcome to subterranean England.”

  He regarded her intently, his eyes dark and unreadable. He’d turned her life upside down in the brief days of craziness they’d just experienced. But now it was over.

  “It’s underground?” He’d mentioned it was in a bunker but she’d not given anything much thought in the last few days. Apart from trying not to die and him of course.

  “Yes. Only reason it survived the invasion.” He arched an eyebrow at her as he reached past and flipped the protective lip on the opaque access panel. Green and red lights flickered underneath. He placed his fingertips on the smooth black surface. Something nearby hummed with a swell of power, and the door began to unlock in a series of thunks that reverberated through her bones.

  There was no going back now.

  35

  Garrick let the foot-thick door slam shut behind them. Anna jumped, so he slid his hand into hers in a gesture of reassurance and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

  Bolts slid into place one after the other.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  A wave of claustrophobia swept through his body, making his stomach roll. He still didn’t like being sealed underground like this, even if it did mean safety. The air was surprisingly cool. The muted hum of air conditioning filtered down from vents set in the wall above his head.

  They stood at the top of a long tunnel that slanted down for almost a hundred feet. Flickering lights set in the ceiling every ten feet or so cast enough of a glow for them to make their way.

  Walking towards them was a tall, lean man, his head clean-shaven and smooth. He was wearing army fatigue trousers and a grey t-shirt that was torn at the neck, revealing an elaborate line of inked script decorating his collarbone. He was grinning widely as he approached Garrick. Garrick ’s own face cracked into a tired smile in response.

  Behind the tall man jogged a tall redhead with an auburn tangle of hair softening her face. She was dressed in tight-fitting black cargo trousers and jacket with a loose black scarf slung around her neck. Black leather gloves covered her hands, and she carried not one, but two weapons. A rifle was slung over her shoulder, and an MP5 was ready in her hands, held across her belly.

  The two men stepped forward and clasped each other in a bear hug.

  “Foster. Am I glad to see you.” Garrick slapped him on the back. Some of the tension and anxiety of the last four days eased from his body—he’d brought Anna to safety as he’d promised. Foster returned the slap and Garrick staggered slightly. The other man released him, a furrow of concern on his brow. “You ok?”

  “Nothing to worry about.” Garrick made a dismissive gesture with his hand, but his skin was hot and tight under the artificial lights. He needed to sit down. But Anna first. He needed to make sure she was taken care of; then he could rest.

  “Need to check you out in medical.”

  Garrick shook his head. “Later. Hardy and Sawyer?”

  Foster laughed. “Going to take a bit more than some leggy insects to take them down.”

  Relief washed across Garrick’s nerves. All of his team had made it out in one piece. He body swerved Foster and pulled the redhead into his arms, crushing her and all the weapons against him. “Good you came prepared, sis.”

  She snorted from the confines of his arms. “You never know what kind of low-life will come crawling through the door. Look at the state of you.”

  Releasing him, she gave his grizzled cheek a gentle punch. “Good job you’re still alive, otherwise I’d have to come and kick your ass.” Her attention slid to Anna.

  “Hey. I’m Violet. I hope my brother’s taken care of you.” She reached out a gloved hand in friendship.

  “Anna.” Anna returned the gesture, her face pale with bone-deep fatigue. Garrick’s fantasies of Anna Ward in his bed over the next few days would have to wait. She needed to rest first.

  “Dr. Anna Ward,” Garrick expanded. “Anna was at Magdon Down when we got trashed by the Chittrix.”

  Foster shook his fingers as if they were coated in wet mud. “Heavy shit. When Hardy and I got out, and there was no one around, we assumed everyone would make their own way back. We jacked a truck we found stashed in a garage and drove home. Your tracking device showed us you were moving. Sawyer and another woman arrived yesterday. They were pretty roughed up.”

  “Julia.” All eyes turned to Anna at the sound of her voice, scrutinising her. “He was with Julia. My colleague, Julia Simmons. We worked together at Magdon Down. He rescued her from the building.”

  Foster rubbed the top of his shiny head in a frantic motion.

  “That place was rigged, man. They were waiting for us. Like ants all over a freaking jam sandwich.” He glanced at Anna, distrust evident in his voice.

  Garrick grunted in agreement. Foster was right. He�
�d come to the same conclusion. The Chittrix had been at Magdon Down for a specific reason. There’d been nothing random or coincidental about their presence. It niggled under his skin, but he just hadn’t worked out what it was yet. “I still don’t know why they were there. There are a million possibilities. What’s happening with Sawyer and Julia Simmons?”

  “The woman needed patching up. She’s in the infirmary. Sawyer’s ok.” Foster crossed his arms. “He’s probably with Fox now, bending his ear about retaliating. But you know Fox. He’s the safety guy.”

  “We need to speak to Fox. Anna and I tracked past the main hive on the Isle of Dogs on the south of the city.”

  Anna interrupted without apology, her voice urgent. “The Chittrix are swarming. Young queens are getting ready to establish their own hives.”

  Tiredness threatened to overwhelm Garrick as he struggled to form coherent sentences in his fatigue-muddled brain. “Julia Simmons may have a weapon we can use against the Chittrix. You know anything about that?”

  “Nope.” Foster narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Swarming?”

  Garrick nodded. “Just hatched.”

  “What does Julia Simmons have?” asked Violet.

  Anna answered. “It’s called a Sweeper. It uses hypersonic sound to detonate Chittrix. Blow them up.”

  “Holy crap,” Foster said, rubbing his hand together with glee. “Right up my street.”

  Violet frowned at Foster. “Not everything is a game, Lincoln.” She turned to Anna. “I can take you to see Julia in the infirmary. Edwards, our medic, will want to check you out anyway. You can speak to Julia and find out if she has this Sweeper Device. She’s been a bit out of it since she arrived.”

  Foster’s eyebrows climbed his buffed scalp. “We’ve been lucky this week. Soon we’ll have scientists coming out our ears.” He stared directly at Anna. “What are you wearing? Is that more of the secret shit I predicted was at the labs?” He touched her waist.

  Garrick shifted, moving closer to Anna and forcing Foster to take a step backwards. “You made a good call Foster. Anna developed the armour. It’s already proven its worth getting us back here.”

  A cultured voice cut through the conversation. Garrick’s stomach twisted.

  “Glad you made it back, Major.” Fox was too stupid to be insincere. He really thought he was good at his job.

  Garrick grunted, exhaustion leaving no room for pleasantries.

  The older man approached, softer at the edges than Garrick and Foster, and in full military uniform with ribbons pinned to his chest.

  Foster shot Garrick a surreptitious questioning look, but Garrick kept his face impassive. “With all due respect sir, if you’d listened to us before we’d left, we wouldn’t have been put in such a precarious position. We had too few men and not enough fire power to deal with any kind of sustained Chittrix assault.”

  Fox’s lips thinned in disagreement. “Major, you would do well to remember your position in this base.”

  Garrick straightened, bristling. Dick.

  “General.” Anna’s feminine voice sliced through the tension that hummed in the air.

  Fox’s attention snapped from Garrick to Anna. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

  Anna stuck out her hand. “Anna Ward. Entomologist. Bio-weaponry. I worked at Magdon Down prior to the Chittrix invasion. Your Major,” she inclined her head in Garrick’s direction, “helped me. I wouldn’t have made it out alive if it wasn’t for him.”

  The General raised his eyebrows and shook the proffered hand. “Gerard Fox. I run the helm here.” He chuckled at his own humour while Garrick flexed his fingers in an effort to avoid clenching them into fists.

  “I need to speak to my colleague, Dr. Simmons. Young Chittrix queens are swarming at the primary hive. We may only have hours before they leave.”

  Garrick was impressed at how calm and measured Anna sounded.

  Fox nodded his head as if placating an unruly child. “Yes. Yes. We’ll need to have a think about the best way to deal with that.”

  Anna rounded on him, drawing herself up to her full five- foot-five. “General. They can fly several hundred miles in a day. In a few days, those new queens will be adding to the already comprehensive decimation of the UK or heading across to what’s left of Europe. They will rapidly increase the density of the Chittrix population, wiping out the few paltry groups of human refugees that remain. This is the second stage of their acquisition of this planet.”

  No messing, straight to the point. Garrick had to respect her spunk. His girl was indomitable.

  Fox reached for her, his stubby fingers grasping her shoulders, sweeping her away from the men and turning her in the direction of the rest of the base. “I have significant battle experience so you can rest assured that the best decision will be made on how to handle this recent development.”

  Anna shook him off her shoulders, her eyes darkening with frustration.

  “You don’t understand the gravity of this, General. Each of these queens can establish a hive equivalent to the primary hive in London. There won’t be any space left for humans if they manage to keep reproducing and spreading like this. We’ll literally be squashed underfoot on our own planet, suffocating under the sheer volume of Chittrix.” Her eyes flashed with righteous anger.

  “Anna may be right.” Garrick’s voice was soft.

  But Fox’s mouth thinned to a bloodless sliver. “I’ll give this my full attention, but any attack on the primary hive is a potential suicide mission, and I am not going to agree to men running off on the speculation of one scientist. No offence.”

  “It’s not an attack as such. We can plant the Sweeper—”

  Fox raised his voice. “Especially when you are talking about using experimental weapons.”

  Garrick slipped his hand into the crook of Anna’s elbow. His knuckles grazed up against her ribs briefly as she resisted his touch, but then she relaxed enough to let him lead her. He guided her past Fox, pushing her further down the corridor. Fox frowned but allowed them to pass. Violet slipped in behind as Garrick spoke.

  “Dr. Ward is tired. I’ll take her down to the medical bay for a check-up.”

  Anna’s body was stiff with tension, but she remained silent. Relief flowed through Garrick as he shouldered both their backpacks and steered the unbending scientist away from the General.

  “C’mon. Let’s find your friend.”

  36

  “You didn’t need to shuttle me out of there, you know. I can handle men like Gerard Fox.”

  Garrick’s eyes were unreadable. “Give him time to absorb what you’re saying.”

  Anna huffed out a long breath, anger fizzing below the surface. “That’s exactly what we don’t have.” They were complacent here in their safety, something she’d never been at Magdon. Security there had been too fragile and transient, as scientist after scientist died at the hands of scavengers or Chittrix.

  He stopped and took her by the shoulders. “We’ll deal with it. Let’s take it one step at a time.” And then he tugged her hand again, pulling her further into the never-ending shadowy tunnels. Walls loomed above her head, suffocating after the open space of their journey from London.

  Anger and fear ricocheted around her brain as she descended further into the warren of the base, Violet tagging a discrete distance behind. Fox was a fool, unwilling to acknowledge another point of view if it meant agreeing to someone else’s game plan.

  She glanced at Garrick. He believed her. If Julia had the Sweeper, and she convinced Garrick it was worth the risk, the others would follow. She was sure of it. She saw the way his sister and Foster regarded him while in the presence of the General. It was her only foothold.

  She followed him through grey swing-doors which marked the small medical wing of the base. The walls were painted gleaming white in stark contrast to the entrance. Anna’s heart skipped. Julia was propped up in bed on a faded red blanket, a beaten, curled paperback on her lap, and a dark-haired man sitt
ing next to her on a grey plastic chair. He was the rangy one with the mohican and intense dimples from the armoury. Julia turned the second the doors clattered and squealed. Anna, ran over and pulled Julia, generous breasts and all, into her arms. She took deep calming breaths of her friend, inhaling antiseptic and citrus soap.

  “Thank God, Julia. I didn’t know if you were alive.”

  Julia hugged her fiercely in return. “Anna.” The book slid to the floor between them with a loud slap, and when Anna finally let go, her face was hot and salty with tears.

  Relief flowed through Anna’s body like Valium, relaxing muscles she hadn’t even known were tied up in knots. She gave Julia’s shoulders a happy squeeze. Julia smiled, her eyes shimmering. Her chestnut hair hung in an uncharacteristic mess around her face, and there were new lines of exhaustion at the corners of her mouth.

  “You ok?”

  Julia nodded. “Just a sprained ankle.” She gestured at Garrick. “I saw you two together in the atrium. I prayed he would bring you back. I just—”

  Her breath came in short gasps as she tried to force the words out. “After everything. After the last six months. You’re all I have left. We’re family.”

  She coughed and waved her hands at Anna in disbelief.

  Anna looked down. Her clothes were stained with pyrethrin and caked in river mud. Her trousers were torn and bloody. Dirt was rammed under her fingernails and ground into her skin. A crumbling circle of dried mud surrounded her on the white tiled floor. God knew what her face was like. She gave a small laugh. “Yeah. I guess I am in a bit of a state.”

  The dark-haired man acknowledged Anna with a curt jerk of his head. His arms were folded firmly across his chest. “Doc.”

  From across the room Violet pulled a confused face, looking from Anna to Sawyer. “You two already met?”

  “Something like that,” Anna said.

  She took Sawyer’s proffered hand and shook it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm and strong. Intelligent hazel eyes took her all in. He then clapped Garrick on the shoulder, an infectious grin lighting up his face. Maybe there was more to him than the swagger. At the very least, he had taken good care of Julia.