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

by Theresa Beachman

  “Here.”

  Anna pointed to a golden tracery that streaked down the centre of the map, connecting the jigsaw of tunnels.

  Garrick tracked the route with his finger, tracing a swerving line below the hive with plateaus of chambers branching off the main tunnel at regular intervals. The passageways of the colony descended in graceful spirals mirroring each other, each feeding into one central line and all terminating deep underground. “That’s more than a hundred feet under, Anna.”

  She looked up at him. “We need to plant the explosive down there somehow, but these descending tunnels are too long and steep.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, concentrating. “Give me the Sweeper. And Hardy, give me your digital map.” Garrick nodded, and Hardy placed the small screen in the palm of her injured hand where she could read it.

  “The Sweeper?” Anna asked, raising her voice in impatience.

  Garrick unslung the rucksack and ripped the fastenings open. He lifted out the cuboid device and handed it over. She took it and kneeled, placing it on the ground in front of her.

  Hardy swore under his breath. “You guys hurry up with that shit.”

  Garrick scanned the walls, checking his own map for the tunnel to lead them back out. He spun and twisted the image with a flick of his fingers. A small orange blip flashed onto the screen, next to the end of a golden line. Foster’s craziness. He’d take that as a sign; it was as good a direction to head in as any.

  Around them the humming changed in tempo and urgency, riding up though the soles of Garrick’s boots and kicking more adrenalin into his overworked system.

  Anna crouched in front of him, hissing under her breath as she worked at the Sweeper with her knife. The blade slipped, and she swore.

  As his gaze skimmed the walls for signs of alien activity, Violet and Hardy rotated with him, sheltering Anna.

  “Coming from all around us,” Garrick muttered, as the hum became a thrumming reverberation in his bones. Above his head the walls and tunnel entrances were silent and dark.

  Violet bumped gently against his hip, her pulse rifle rock-steady. “They’re coming.”

  She was right. “Anna, you done? We need to go now.”

  Anna stood, and yanked the silver chain from Garrick’s neck with a hand bloody from the knife slip. She’d removed the yellow protective cage of the Sweeper, the pieces scattered at her feet, next to an unassuming silver globe. Her face pale with determination, Anna inserted the silver lozenge into a narrow slot at the base of the globe. A black panel slid open, revealing a keypad. Her fingers flew, keying in the activation code.

  The attack came from all directions at once. Firing out of tunnels in the walls, black-spiked spheres the size of basketballs hurled themselves towards the group. They bounced once or twice, speeding across the floor, then exploded open, their spiky, slated bodies revealing their true form. Rows of grasping legs unfurled from under their armoured upper bodies, like alien supercharged wood lice. Razor-sharp pincers snapped at the human intruders.

  Garrick’s boot connected with the first closest to him. It spun across the floor, colliding with others, while the rest reared up on their back legs and trilled an excruciating war cry. He lifted his machete high, slicing one clean in half midair, splattering Anna in yellow gunk. She fell backwards, clutching the Sweeper.

  Hardy and Violet fired their weapons, cutting broad swathes into the attacking arthropods, but hordes still rushed from the walls.

  “Move with me!” Anna shouted over the cacophony of shrieking insects. She began to inch to the west side of the chamber, the Sweeper in one hand, consulting the map on her wrist simultaneously. Garrick inched forward with her, keeping within touching distance, Violet and Hardy following suit.

  The noise of battle was deafening and Garrick’s arms grew slick with the neon fluids bursting from the gutted insects. For a moment he doubted himself, but when he risked a glance at Anna, he saw only resolute determination.

  Spitfire.

  Seeing her gave him the impetus he needed. There was no way in hell he wasn’t bringing her out of here. He bellowed his rage and charged a few steps forward, clearing a path to the far wall.

  Anna broke from the protection of the group and entered one of the tunnels. Garrick jerked towards her in panic. Where the hell was she going? But she only took a few paces into the narrow tunnel before dropping to a squat.

  Her fingers pressed against the sides of the Sweeper then her right arm swung backwards, and she hurled it into a gaping breach in the floor like a prize bowler. It barrelled out of sight into the dark recesses of the nest. She rose and spun in one movement, giving Garrick the smallest inclination of her head as she rejoined him.

  Garrick took a final check on his bearings. “Hardy.” A twist of his arm indicated the direction for their exit. “Take the lead. Violet. Anna. I’m covering the rear.”

  Hardy responded instantly, a dark, swarthy blur. He bolted without hesitation into the tunnel. Violet followed next, while Garrick hustled Anna behind her. He turned his back to Anna, shadowing her path as he fired at the creatures crowding the tunnel entrance.

  The passage darkened as the giant wood lice tried to cram themselves through the narrow gap in one heaving mass. Their exoskeletons ground against each other in an excruciating scrape. Hardy was calling out but Garrick ignored him. His fingers closed over bumpy metal in his trouser pocket, and he withdrew the avocado-shaped forms of Foster’s grenades.

  He yanked the pins, one after the other, and threw both overhand in quick succession, his shoulder protesting. Both devices disappeared into the black, seething mass of insects.

  Garrick bellowed a warning and threw himself across Anna, slamming her down, protecting her body as the explosion rocked the air. Severed insect remains rained onto them in a storm of black chitin and jellied fluids, landing with loud, wet splats. He covered her body with his until the macabre downpour stopped. Finally, he raised his head and wiped his eyes. Anna trembled beneath him.

  “You alright?”

  “Yes.” She pushed the hair from her forehead, surveying the devastation. The walls were fully pebble-dashed with sticky shards of alien remains.

  For a moment, the opening behind them was clear, ambient light filtering in from the chamber they’d just left. Then it darkened in a swoop, Chittrix lice filling the entrance once more, rattling and ticking in fury. They seethed at the tunnel entrance, hesitant and wary of the technology that had just detonated.

  Garrick hauled himself back to his feet, fatigue eating at him as he helped Anna to her feet. He’d bought them extra time, he just didn’t know for how long.

  48

  As they exited the last few hundred feet of the hive, Garrick’s lungs burned from lack of oxygen, and his eyes stung viciously from the Chittrix lice fluid. But Anna’s hand was in his, and he wasn’t letting go.

  Finally, light flooded the last part of the tunnel, suffusing the organic walls, illuminating their route. Hardy reached the end first, his body silhouetted in daylight.

  He turned, catching Violet and hustling her away from the exit. They collided with Garrick and Anna.

  Hardy knocked his head backwards against the wall in violent frustration.

  “No way out. The exit opens onto hundreds of Chittrix. You can’t even see the ground. We’re lucky they didn’t spot us,” Hardy said, the muscles in his neck corded.

  “We can’t go back. They’re behind us as well.” Anna twisted in Garrick’s grip, wiping tears and gunk from her cheek.

  The incessant chittering and burring following them rose in intensity, and Garrick, crouching low, took a few steps and peered round the corner. The alien lice were reclaiming the tunnel as their own. They obscured all surfaces, including the roof. Garrick withdrew, resting his back against the wall, and ran a bloody palm across his face.

  There was nowhere left to run.

  He shook his head at Hardy. “Nearly on us.”

  He reached for Anna’s hand
and touched it to his cheek.

  Suddenly, the air between them flickered, and then hypersonic pressure burned through Garrick in a scalding tsunami of energy. It forcibly penetrated every cell in his body before hurling him against the floor of the hive. His vision blurred, as Anna and the others were also thrown from their feet by the invisible pulse. Beneath him, the floor twisted and bucked.

  A heavy, weighted silence engulfed him, the stillness disorientating after the frenzy of the Chittrix lice. His breath was hot against his face, as he lay unable to move, waiting for the feeling to return to his numb limbs. Finally, a rush of blood warmed his feet, and sensation rolled into his legs again. He pulled himself up on to his hands and knees, coughing up blood and spit. Beside him, Anna spluttered and rolled onto her side, dragging in great lungfuls of air. Sound slowly filtered back into Garrick’s brain; Violet groaning, and Hardy swearing imperceptibly on the edges of his hearing.

  Anna stood first, her hands outstretched in wonder, running her fingers down the scaled edges of the tunnel. Tiny fragments blistered and crumbled beneath her fingertips and fluttered to the earth in a sprinkle of flaked amber crystal.

  “It worked,” she said, turning to Garrick, her face happy and luminous.

  They climbed out the hive into daylight, blinking in the brightness after the muted light of the hive.

  Chittrix and Scutters lay dead in disjointed, crumbled piles over hundreds of feet of grass. Garrick took a few hesitant steps to the closest Chittrix. The abdomen was shattered; internal organs exploded outwards in a jellied rush. He withdrew hastily. The silence of the dead aliens him was all the proof he needed. He’d seen enough.

  “It really worked,” Violet said, her voice breaking the hush.

  Hardy kicked one of the corpses, and it slid apart as if dissected by scalpels. He stood and stared, his pulse rifle hanging mute at his side. “Bloody amazing.”

  Anna tugged Garrick’s hand, her face serious. “The Sweeper’s only taken out the hive. Others will return any minute.”

  Filthy and shattered Garrick led them across the black field of dead insects, heading west, but when the Coyote came crashing through a narrow street directly ahead, relief gave him a final surge of energy. He whooped loudly, waving his arm to attract attention.

  The driver was nowhere to be seen as it skidded to a halt, then the roof hatch clanged open, and Foster appeared. He slammed the sides of the vehicle in a metallic thump as he climbed out and stood on the bonnet. He spread his arms wide in appreciation of the devastation in front of him then gestured wildly at Garrick and the others.

  “Fucking hurry up!” he shouted, as he jumped to the stony road, making sweeping gestures with his hands.

  The smaller Jackal came careening around the corner, Sawyer caning the engine.

  Garrick helped Violet and Anna into the Coyote as Foster ran a few paces away and crouched over a bulging kit bag. With a sly grin at Garrick he adjusted the rocket launcher on his shoulder, the digital visuals engaged and loading. He beamed over his shoulder and winked.

  “Extra gift to finish things off.”

  The rocket launcher gave a three second engagement beep then fired, almost throwing Foster onto his back. It shot high into the sky, a silvery-grey dart with a plume of brilliant white, arcing above their heads before turning and pointing directly at the ravaged hive to deliver its deadly payload.

  As Garrick slammed the hatch shut on the Coyote, the explosion rocked the vehicle, throwing him painfully against the metal sides.

  He hurled himself into a seat and grabbed Anna’s hand as Foster threw the engine into gear and floored it.

  Anna squeezed his hand. Now that they were safe, tears of happiness welled in her eyes. “You came and got me.”

  He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed her scratched knuckles.

  “Always.”

  49

  Anna lurched in her seat as Foster thrashed at breakneck speed away from the dying hive. She watched through the small, dark windows at the rear of the vehicle as red and orange flames consumed the nest.

  The Chittrix would rebuild, continuing to push humans to the edge of their limits. But now they had a real way forward, a technology to make a real difference. She closed her eyes and said a small prayer of thanks that they were all still alive.

  When she opened them again, she had made a resolution. She’d been stuck in the past long enough. She possessed the technology and skills to do some serious damage to the Chittrix population, and have Garrick at her side while she did it.

  She dragged her gaze from the burning devastation to Garrick resting beside her, hanging on to a green roof-strap with one hand. His head drooped, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. She cradled the back of his neck with her hand as the vehicle swung and bounced under Foster’s erratic driving skills. Expletives from the front cab where Violet was sat reassured Anna they’d get home in one piece.

  Garrick settled his hand on Anna’s thigh, its heat soaking through the thin fabric of her trousers. She placed her hand on top, and let her fingers slip between his. A wave of peace swept through her body. With Garrick, she could just be herself.

  I don’t have to fight all the time. I can let go.

  He was watching her. His dark eyes steady, taking her all in.

  He turned her hand over and traced the delicate bones of her wrist, then slipped a possessive hand behind her neck and pulled her close, his lips finding hers. She let the warmth and scent him soak into her. She’d thought she’d never be in his arms again.

  She broke away from his kiss, breathless, searching his face. “You can’t change your mind. If you want this, you have to want all of it. All of me. I’m difficult, and I like to get my own way.”

  “I know.” He bumped his forehead against hers. “I’ve made some stellar bad decisions in the last year.” His thumb grazed the edge of her jaw, tracing the line of skin from throat to ear, filling her belly with butterflies. “But you are not one of them.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Flatterer.” Her eyes burned, as he bent and kissed her lashes, brushing away salty tears.

  “I mean it. I want to take my time and enjoy every minute.”

  A heated flush spread over her cheeks, and she smiled. She looked down at the gritty floor and tried to catch her breath despite her racing heart. “Don’t mess with me, Garrick.”

  He shook his head, his voice serious. “I’m not messing.”

  She kissed him hard on the mouth then pulled him fiercely to her. “I can get used to that,” she muttered against his cheek.

  “Guys. Get. A. Room.”

  Anna opened her eyes as Violet lobbed a ball of crumpled paper at Garrick from the front cab.

  Anna broke away from him laughing, wiping at the corner of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Of course, you know this means you can’t hog the maps anymore?”

  Garrick grinned. “I can do that.”

  Anna dozed most of the bumping journey. Exhausted from the adrenalin overload, sweet fatigue stole into her bones and pulled her under. She rested against Garrick, the comfort of being next to him enveloping her in a haze of safety.

  He woke her with a gentle shake.

  “Hey, sleepy. We’re nearly back at the base. Violet’s radioing us in.”

  Anna rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. Her entire body ached as if she had done ten rounds in a boxing ring, but with Garrick beside her, none of it mattered.

  The radio crackled in the front cab, and Violet spoke into the handset. She turned and shouted over her shoulder as the Coyote started to tilt downhill.

  “Another five minutes. They’re expecting us.”

  Anna shot a questioning glance at Garrick, he’d already explained what had happened with Fox when he’d left the base. His face was composed, the creases at the corner of his eyes relaxed. “Fox just needs time,” he reassured her.

  Violet continued to speak with the base as they descended, finally hanging up the mouthpiec
e as Foster brought the Coyote to a standstill. Thick, rumbling doors ground closed behind them. Anna was back at the Command Base.

  Garrick insisted on unclipping her seat-belt and then before she jumped down from the metal step, his hands enclosed her hips in a firm grip. He lifted her, his gaze never leaving hers, a smile on his lips. “Safe now,” he said. When he released her, the imprint of his fingers still scalded her skin.

  She blinked in the bright lights of the base, relishing the cool subterranean air. It soothed her lungs after the long drive in the stuffy confines of the Coyote.

  The Jackal was parked next to them, Hardy and Sawyer were already unloading weapons.

  “Garrick!” Anna recognised Fox’s clipped, no-nonsense tones and turned to see the man striding up, face flushed, arms tight at his sides. Edwards the medic accompanied him. A small wave of anxiety and concern for Garrick swirled in Anna’s belly. He was part of her now.

  Garrick held up two placating hands.

  Fox stopped a few feet away. His nostrils flared and he tapped one shiny boot on the hangar floor, clearly searching for words.

  Garrick gestured at Foster, Anna, and the others behind them. “Everyone’s safe.”

  Edwards stepped forwards, breaking the ice. “Let’s check people out then.” He hooked his fingers at Anna with a follow me gesture. “Reckon I can handle this,” he said, eyeing her bloody shoulder.

  But Fox stood blocking their exit, immoveable, fixated on Garrick. “You left against my direct orders.”

  Garrick sighed. “With all due respect, Sir, you are not my commanding officer. I did what had to be done. I’m not going to apologise for that.” Garrick indicated the hangar around them. “I don’t expect this base to be run as a democracy, but I do expect to have a choice in who we choose as a leader. Everything is changing. We can’t just run things based on how it was before. We’re all going to die if we keep repeating ourselves.”