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

by Theresa Beachman

  Julia pulled Anna close, resting their foreheads together. “What was that at Magdon, Anna?”

  Anna didn’t answer straight away. Garrick was right. There was more to what had happened than some random Chittrix activity. “I don’t know yet.”

  “I didn’t see Blake. Did you?”

  Anna shook her head, trying to lose the mental image of the webbed, body-shaped parcel being taken from Magdon by the Chittrix. “I don’t know how he could have made it out of there alive on crutches. We only got out by a thin thread.” She pulled back from Julia and sat down on the bed. Her skin was gritty and sore under her clothes. She ached for a hot shower and soap to scrub away the dirty river water that still clung to her.

  Julia ran her hand appreciatively across Anna’s breastplate. “Your armour.”

  Anna nodded. “I had my bug-out bag. The one you forced me to pack.” She smiled for the briefest instant. “What about you? Our data and the Sweeper?”

  Julia visibly brightened. “All safe.”

  We have a chance.

  Excitement pushed the words out Anna’s mouth in a rush. “They’re swarming at the primary hive. Young queens. There’s too many to take out with smaller explosives. It’s exactly what the Sweeper was built for.”

  Julia’s eyebrows creased in concentration. “The egg chambers are the most protected.” She bit her lip. “In the centre of the hive.”

  Anna nodded in agreement. “Yes, it’s risky but I think we can destroy them with the Sweeper.” She stopped, searching the room. “Where is it?”

  Julia pressed Sawyer’s forearm. “Would you get my backpack?”

  Sawyer bent and pulled a muddy, blue nylon backpack from a battered metal cabinet beside the bed. He placed it on Julia’s lap wordlessly.

  They all stared for a moment.

  Julia unsnapped the two front straps and pulled the coiled blue cord through the plastic toggle, opening the mouth of the pack wide. She reached inside and pulled out a stack of worn notebooks held together with faded red elastic bands. Placing them on the blanket, she delved back inside and withdrew a dirty, grey metallic box. All six sides were perforated with black steel mesh and crisscrossed with slick, yellow enamelled safety bars.

  “Have you been carrying that the entire time?” Sawyer’s voice was incredulous. “You didn’t think to mention you had a bomb in your backpack?”

  Julia tilted her chin defiantly. “Yes and no. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

  Violet gave a low whistle of appreciation from the far side of the room.

  “Sheesh.” Sawyer sat down heavily on the metal chair, muttering. “Fox is going to love this.”

  “He already knows.” Anna took the device from Julia.

  It was cold in her hands and heavy, due to the density of the sound-amplification tech inside. Her fingers ran over the familiar shape Julia had laboured over for the past six months. This was fighting back. She regarded Garrick directly.

  “We need to do this. You know that, don’t you? There isn’t a choice anymore.”

  Garrick sighed and ran a palm across his eyes. When he opened them again, he wasn’t smiling.

  37

  Garrick sat at a grey, chipped Formica table in the base canteen, nursing a beer, grateful for the distracting warmth of rough alcohol in his bloodstream. Along with the low hum of conversation from the others in the room, it helped to take his mind off the shit-storm in his brain. He was still trying to decide the best way to approach Anna. Persuading her to give things between them a chance was proving to be the hardest thing he had ever done.

  He was unhooked from the IV system, his body stuffed with steroids. Jamie Edwards, their chief medic, had insisted, worried about a delayed reaction to the plant toxins. Afterwards, Garrick had gone to his own bunk where he’d lain on his bed for at least two minutes before getting up and slamming the intersecting wall between the bathroom and bedroom with the palm of his hand, cursing. The jolt had echoed up his arms to the rigid, corded muscles of his neck.

  He needed to speak to Anna, but he had no idea where to begin or if she would even listen to him. She had slipped into science-geek mode with Julia, so he had left the two of them under Violet’s supervision, relying on V to sort Anna out with a shower and fresh clothes. And he still had to deal with Fox. His mind ricocheted. What if Anna was wrong about the hive? The risks involved in approaching the Chittrix on their home turf were enormous.

  Reality got the better of him, and he threw on a t-shirt and found himself in the canteen. During the day, it served up basic meals the inhabitants of the CB required. In the evenings, it served lethal beer for those brave enough to drink it. Alcohol, he decided with weary judgement, would stop the endless chatter in his brain.

  His mind played over Anna’s face, memorising every smooth sweep of freckled skin and lashes. He’d always wanted a normal life and someone to share it with, but he’d assumed it was beyond his reach. He’d been so wild in his youth, and later, it was something that was incompatible with the SAS. And then, of course, aliens had arrived on big chunks of rock, and the definition of normal got thrown out the window.

  But now it shimmered in front of him like a mirage. A possibility. Garrick wanted Anna to take a chance on him. He just didn’t have any bloody idea how he was going to achieve it. Typically, he had chosen the most stubborn woman left on the planet who thought she was better off on her own. And now she wanted him to help her take a bomb far into the bowels of the Chittrix hive. Brilliant or insane, the jury was still out.

  He sat beneath the tinny speakers of the canteen sound system to avoid speaking to anyone. Music blasted across the nearly empty room, loud enough to make conversation uncomfortable, obligingly obliterating the cascade of irrational thoughts bouncing around inside his head.

  And then there was Fox. Fox was still reluctant for anyone else to leave the base in the next few days. He’d made that more than clear. Even if they did have a new weapon against the Chittrix, placing it within the hive was a seriously risky endeavour.

  Garrick looked up at a thump from the canteen entrance. Violet stormed through the doors with a scowl on her face that Garrick recognised from their childhood. He took another slug of his beer. Going by Violet’s face, he was going to need it. The swing-doors bounced, handles denting the battered walls further. His sister was capable of dissembling the entirety of the CB without any help from invading aliens.

  It was late, and only a few stragglers were left sitting in a small huddle. There was no one for Garrick to hide behind, but he found himself ducking his head anyway. He took another wincing mouthful of the sour-tasting liquid, hopeful it might make listening to Violet easier. He doubted it.

  Violet made a beeline to where he was sitting, bumping down beside him abruptly, making the table wobble. She leaned in to his ear to make herself heard.

  “Thought I might find you down here feeling sorry for yourself.” She picked up his drink and took a long slug. She screwed up her eyes and shook her head. “Shit, how do you drink this stuff?”

  “Can’t a guy have a drink, V?”

  Violet frowned. “Really?”

  “Spare me the pep talk.”

  “Normally I would, but what the fuck are you doing down here?”

  “Coming up with a plan. And quit swearing.”

  Violet shook her head, messy hair falling over her forehead. Most days, she ignored everything he said. Nothing new there, he thought through the pleasant numbness of the alcohol. He picked his bottle back up and took another bitter mouthful.

  “Spare me the big brother routine. Sitting here drinking this is not coming up with a plan. It’s avoidance. You’re avoiding her.”

  “Believe me, Anna Ward can take care of herself.”

  Violet reached across and took the bottle out of his hand. She drained the remains in one slug then slammed it back on the table, coughing. “I saw the way she looked at you, and the way you looked at her this afternoon.” She pointed at him. “
There’s only one thing a man should be doing with a woman who wants him like that, and mostly it involves throwing her over your shoulder and hauling her off to some dark cave so you can smooch up close and personal.”

  Violet waited for him to answer.

  Garrick remained silent. He didn’t need telling. He’d spent the last six months subsisting on revenge. Now the need for vengeance had slipped, replaced by the woman who had lodged herself in his battered heart. But he didn’t know how to convince her to give them a chance. Didn’t know where to even begin. He was rudderless.

  “I’ve tried V. She won’t let me in.”

  Violet’s eyes searched his face, and then softened. “That’s loser talk Garrick, and you know it. You can’t avoid her because she’s being awkward. Nothing good ever comes easy.” Her eyes widened as she raised her eyebrows. “Feisty can be good, you know.”

  Garrick shook his head in disbelief, and despite himself, a grin crept onto his face.

  “You have a filthy mind, V.”

  “You can’t avoid grown-up shit, and that’s what you're doing now.”

  Damn. His sister saw right through him. It pissed him off mightily.

  “She’s really got under your skin, hasn’t she?” Violet paused, her voice tinged with compassion.

  Garrick grunted, wishing she’d disappear and take her perceptive sixth-sense crap with her. His emotions were laid out on the table, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

  She placed her hands on either side of his on the cheap wobbly table. Her voice gentle. “I saw how she was with you earlier. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. No matter what she says, her body language is revealing the complete opposite, and the crazy shit is that you feel the same way, otherwise why else would you be down here sucking up gut-rot?”

  “I thought if I gave her some time to think things through…”

  Violet snorted back a laugh. “Being down here is not showing her you want to be with her. What’s she going to think? You have to speak to her. Actually, you need to do more than speak to her.”

  She blew a strand of auburn hair off her face, checking out the nearly empty canteen. “You’re not perfect, but you are a good man, and you need to cut yourself some slack.”

  Garrick’s forehead creased. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Anna would doubt him. He wanted to give her space, not lose her. He stood up, his thighs shoving the table back in a long screech.

  V swatted him across the backside “It’s good you’re still alive in there.” Her face was serious. She didn’t wait for a reply, instead she smoothed her shirt across her flat belly, and readjusted the handgun tucked into the holster on her hip. “Hurry up. I’m not going to twist your arm again.”

  Garrick took a few steps and then broke into a run.

  Why was V so bloody right all the time?

  38

  Anna dried off after a lukewarm shower and pulled on the clothes Violet had loaned her. The freshly laundered grey t-shirt and black cargo trousers were clean and comfortable against her skin. Jamie Edwards had applied a fresh dressing on her left arm and patched up her cheek and shins with Steri-Strips. Her boots remained filthy, but she pulled them on anyway.

  She felt more herself now. Ready to do what had to be done. There was no doubt in her mind about what the Chittrix were doing. Fox could say what he liked, but the queens were swarming, and if no one stopped them it was the next step in game over.

  The plain military room pressed down on her. Grey walls, a small bunk with sheets, and a standard, scratchy grey blanket. A cupboard nook with two bent coat hangers, and a shelf underneath.

  She needed to escape.

  Violet wanted her to rest for a few hours, but if she stayed in this room, she’d go crazy. She needed the cold night air on her face and in her lungs. Then she’d straighten her head out, decide what she needed to say to General Fox to convince him that everything they had here was on the line.

  And then there was Garrick. His concern touched her. No man ever worried about her wellbeing. Keen to remove her underwear or undermine her work to make themselves look good, yes. Consideration and tenderness, not so much. It aroused new and fragile emotions within her that she was unsure how to deal with. Her emotions jangled, brittle and exposed.

  Anna’s palms were slick with apprehension as she opened the door. Sticking her head out into the corridor she listened for the echo of approaching footsteps, but the buffed linoleum was silent and empty in both directions.

  Relief flowed through her as she slipped from the room and pressed the door closed. The base hummed around her, ticking over through the night as she jogged up the corridor retracing her steps.

  She stole past the communications room and the infirmary where Julia was resting. A glimpse through the small window at the top of the door revealed Edwards, bent over piles of books, illuminated by a pool of yellow light.

  Anna reached down into her boot and gripped the handle of her knife. She wasn’t going to ask permission to leave, so without hesitation she headed up the access tunnel to the heavy, red security doors.

  She slid her knife under the edge of the access panel, wiggling it off with the blade. The wires exposed, she stripped off the plastic casings and bound them together in a new configuration. The bolts in the door unlocked one at a time.

  Boom, Boom.

  They were bloody loud, and she willed them to hurry up and be a bit fucking quieter too why don't you as anxiety unzipped her bad mouth.

  The final bolt slammed free.

  She darted through the gap and slammed the door shut behind her, hearing the locks automatically re-sink into position.

  Outside, finally. She sucked in lungfuls of fresh air. It smelled absolutely brilliant. Cool and sharp with the green scent of grass and trees. Craning her neck, she scanned the muted purple sky. It appeared clear, only shifting clouds scudding above her head.

  She skirted to the back, where the building overlooked a row of red and white boxy houses before giving way to the black edge of the New Forest in the distance. Derelict gardens and driveways were outlined in subdued light as she scrambled down across grass that extended for several hundred feet before disappearing into rustling trees.

  His hand threaded into hers without warning.

  Anna started, jerking instinctively away, but Garrick caught her and tugged her close, scowling. How was he so damn silent?

  “You are one obstinate woman. And difficult to find.”

  Then he bent and kissed her, sending a hot rush through her body as his hands plunged deep into her hair. She broke away breathless, her hands flat to the hard planes of his chest. It was so easy to forget reality with him and lose herself. He was warm and real under her fingertips. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

  “How did you get out here?” His voice was gruff.

  She shook her head. “I needed to think.”

  “And?” His hands gripped her sides.

  “I don’t know how to do ‘together’ Garrick. I’ve always been alone, I’ve never let anyone in. I’m a safety girl, especially with the world the way it is.”

  He gripped her chin, tilting her face to his.

  “That’s all the more reason for us to grab this, whatever it is, and not it let go.”

  She replaced her head on his chest. Soothing warmth radiated from him. The way his presence encompassed her was addictive. The rhythmic thump of his heart filled her ears, blotting everything else out. Life was easier like this; when she didn’t have to think.

  “You worry too much,” he said reading her mind.

  “I know nothing about relationships.” The words fell from her mouth, uncensored. He didn’t flinch, but his arms flexed round her in response.

  “I’m hardly an expert either. We can work it out together.”

  Hot emotion welled in her throat, thwarting any words. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes. Despite everything, he still wanted her. She’d tried to push him away, and h
e just kept coming back. No one had ever done that.

  “I don’t want to do this without you, Anna. I’ve spent the last six months on autopilot after my brother died, and then you came and blew me out of the water. I’ve never met anyone like you.” He paused, his voice a breath against the top of her head. “Smart. Beautiful. Sexy.” His lips pressed into her hair in a kiss. “You woke me up. I’m not letting you go, and I’ll fight anyone or anything who tries to keep you from me.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek with infinite gentleness. “Including you.”

  Anna squeezed her eyes closed, letting him wash over and through her. She glimpsed a future where he’d never leave her, and they relied on each other in this new brutal reality. Her heart raced at the unknown possibilities in front of her.

  “Garrick—”

  A Chittrix hunting-scream ripped through the sky above, freezing the words in her throat. Anna stumbled as Garrick threw her violently to the left, hurling her to the ground. Her hip connected with unyielding stones, driving the air from her lungs. She rolled, searching wildly for the source of the scream.

  Garrick stood in front of her, his machete drawn as he lunged at the Chittrix. Its silvered wings beat the air frenziedly, while its elongated legs slashed through the space separating them, trying to disarm him.

  The hillside was bare. There was nowhere to run, no protection.

  Fear rode her in a crashing, paralysing wave. Her fingers dug into the soil under her palms, grit grinding against her fingernails. The Chittrix connected with the grass briefly, its hindquarters flexing, giving it leverage to pound Garrick with its barbed tail and toss him in an easy throw. He landed awkwardly, his body twisting with a grunt.

  Seeing him lying there released Anna. Dirty fingers burrowed deep into her boot for her knife. If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting. She jumped to her feet, rage bellowing from her lungs as she raced across the grassy space separating them.