The Complete Aliens Omnibus, Volume 3

by Sandy Schofield

  He was confident of the outcome. He had wagered everything he had, his entire life, on this fight. He knew he was right.

  It was only a matter of time before the rogue proved it so.

  19

  The wall of monitors filled the office with pictures of horror beyond anything Sergeant Green had seen in his years of war. He had pushed Kleist’s chair back out of the way and was standing behind the huge wooden desk staring at the screens.

  McPhillips was working over the control board on the desk, switching pictures on the monitors as he quickly worked to figure the system out.

  “Holy Christ,” Dillon said as he too watched the monitors. “He could see every damn inch of this place.”

  “Makes you feel real clean, huh?” McPhillips said as he kept working.

  Green was paying very little attention. His focus was on the screens and the terrible carnage going on around the station. Bugs had totally filled the area near the divide and Larson’s men looked like they had put up very little resistance. A few bug bodies littered the huge hole in the barrier and a dozen bodies of Larson’s goons lay scattered in the corridor on the human side, most of them smashed or torn in half.

  Now about thirty of Larson’s men seemed to have retreated into an area near the kitchens and were holding off the bugs with pure firepower. But Green knew they weren’t going to last that long in a pitched fight like that. The bugs always seemed to have more bodies to throw at men than men had ammunition to cut them down. Eventually the fight would turn to the bugs.

  McPhillips glanced up at the screens focused on the fight with Larson’s men that Green was watching. “Sarge, we aren’t going to their rescue, are we?”

  Green glanced over at McPhillips and laughed. “Are you kidding? See if you can locate Robinsen and his men.”

  McPhillips smiled and went back to work on the control panel. On the huge wall of monitors scenes changed with only a flickering. One moment a monitor was filled with the terrorized faces of a man and a woman huddled in a closet in a small bedroom. The next was a scene of an alien carrying a passed-out lab tech in a white coat toward the alien section.

  The west lounge kept flashing up from different cameras as McPhillips worked. A large black male alien was making a home behind the bar, spreading saliva over the bottles, coating everything from the bar stools to the plants with the slime he excreted. Draped over the corner booth was a tall black man with his head cut off.

  Another monitor flickered, another scene.

  A man fired at two aliens, blowing one apart, but missing the second. The guy’s blood exploded over the camera as the alien ripped off his leg and bit through his chest.

  “Jesus,” Dillon said. “They’re everywhere.” Green glanced around at Dillon, whose face was as white as he had ever seen it. The kid’s eyes were huge and he seemed to be staring at the monitors. He was going to be no good if he didn’t move soon.

  “Dillon,” Green said, his voice sharp enough to get through. “Relieve Bosewell on guard.”

  With another quick glance at the wall of monitors, Dillon nodded and left the room.

  Green glanced back up at the wall and all the pictures that were making him as sick as Dillon looked. It was clear from this that he may have sent Robinsen and the rest of the men into a suicide mission. He just hoped Robinsen had enough sense to know when to retreat.

  A scene of a young woman hiding alone with a pistol in her bathtub. Green hoped she had enough sense to use it on herself before any alien found her.

  Another monitor flickered and Green found his attention drawn to two women armed with Kramers ducking down a side hall going in the direction of the hangar deck. They looked like they might make it, if they were lucky. Maybe Robinsen had sent them.

  Another monitor flickered and Larson appeared, working frantically on a Sound Cannon.

  “Hold it!” Green shouted to McPhillips and then pointed to the monitor showing Larson bent over the counter working. “Can you spot where he’s at?”

  “Just a sec.” McPhillips studied the board, then glanced up at the monitor showing Larson. Then he laughed. “The son of a bitch is in a small private lab just behind this office. I doubt he even knows we’re here.”

  “Is he alone in there?”

  “We’d see anyone if there was. It’s a small place. See what’s in those tanks around him?”

  Green looked beyond where Larson was working at the glass tanks on the shelves above him. It took him a moment, but then he realized what he was looking at. Tanks full of live face-huggers, stored right beside his office. The Professor was crazier than they thought.

  “How do I get there?” Green asked, checking to make sure there was a full clip in his Kramer.

  McPhillips studied the board for a moment, then a center screen flashed up a map. Both of them studied it, then McPhillips pointed to a metal door near the small kitchen in the back of the huge office. “Right through there.”

  Bosewell came through the big doors. “Rule and Dillon on guard.” He glanced up and saw the wall of monitors and stopped cold. “Holy shit,” he whispered under his breath.

  “You want to watch some fun?” Green said. “Keep your eye on that third monitor from the top near the right corner.” He pointed at the wall, then strode toward the door near the kitchen. He’d been wanting to do this for years and now it was finally here. His hands were shaking he was so excited.

  “Sarge,” McPhillips said from behind him as he reached the door. “You need backup?”

  Green turned and smiled. “Nope. This guy is all mine. But you can watch the fun.”

  Green pulled the Kramer back under his arm and drew a small pistol out of his belt. He made sure the ten-shot clip was full. It was his favorite pistol and he was damn accurate with it. Unlike the Kramer, it would slow Larson down, but it wouldn’t kill him.

  And for what he had in mind for Larson, that was a good thing.

  He took a deep breath and then looked back across the room at the monitor. Larson was bent over intently studying the works of the Sound Cannon.

  McPhillips gave him a thumbs-up.

  Green silently clicked the latch on the door, then yanked it open so hard it splintered some wood off the wall behind it.

  With a quick step he was through and into the small storage area facing Larson’s back.

  Obviously startled, Larson reached for his Kramer lying beside him on the counter.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Green said and Larson stopped, frozen.

  “Face me with your hands up,” Green said and Larson did as he was told, moving his hands away from the Kramer.

  When he saw Green, he smiled. “So the Professor was right. You weren’t dead.”

  “Too bad for you,” Green said. He stared into the dark, black eyes of the man he had hated for so long. This man had killed so many of his men he had to be made to suffer. Killing him was just too easy.

  “You’re going to need the cannon,” Larson said, pointing to the one he was working on. “Besides the one the Professor has, it’s the only other big one on the base and it’s broken from your last mission. Remember?”

  Green didn’t say a word and didn’t change his expression. He would just let Larson talk for a moment.

  “I think I can fix it,” Larson said. “Just give me a little time and a promise to take me with you when I’m done.”

  Green smiled. “Trying to make a deal?”

  Sweat was pouring off Larson’s white forehead and his eyes were starting to glance back and forth, looking for any way out.

  “Just trying to not get killed by you or the damn bugs.”

  “Oh,” Green said softly. “I won’t kill you.”

  The look on Larson’s face was starting to lighten, as if he actually believed what Green had said.

  Green lowered the aim of his pistol from Larson’s chest to his right leg and shot.

  Larson’s scream echoed in the small room as he grabbed the hole in his upper thigh and
fell to the ground. Blood flowed quickly into a small pool on the tile floor.

  With another carefully aimed shot Green hit Larson in the other leg.

  Larson screamed again.

  “Hurts a bit?” Green said, smiling at Larson. The sergeant moved around the man twisting on the floor and grabbed both his Kramer and the broken Sound Cannon. Holding them under one arm and keeping the pistol aimed at Larson, he moved back to the door and checked to make sure it would still latch solid. It would.

  “Don’t—don’t kill me,” Larson said, holding his bleeding legs and looking up at Green.

  Again Green laughed. “You don’t listen real well, do you. I said I wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Then why’d you do this?”

  Green shrugged. “I suppose because I’ve wanted to for years.”

  Larson looked at him, the hate boiling away the pain in the man’s eyes.

  Green stood in the open door staring down at the man he had hated only second to the Professor. At this moment, finally seeing Larson get his reward, he felt wonderful, like he was a kid again getting his first kiss. There was a twisting, excited feel in his stomach.

  “You can’t leave me like this,” Larson said. “I won’t stand a chance.”

  Green nodded. “I suppose that’s true. All right. I won’t leave you like this if you tell me where the Professor is.”

  Larson shook his head. “I don’t know where he’s at. He and that damned android of his got all suited up and disappeared. They were following that huge bug of his into the alien sector. I imagine he’s dead by now.”

  “Now, now,” Green said, pointing the gun at him again. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

  Larson, sweat pouring off his face, shook his head back and forth. “It’s God’s truth. He followed that damn monster of his. He was as crazy as a loony bird, I swear.”

  “Now that’s the truth,” Green said. “Thanks.”

  “I was just following his orders,” Larson said, his eyes begging Green. “He killed all your men. Not me. I’ll even help you find him if you want.”

  “You’d have a tough time walking, I’m afraid,” Green said. He made a motion to close the door.

  “Wait!” Larson screamed. “I thought we had a deal.”

  Green sighed. “I guess you’re right. I did promise that if you told me where the Professor was, I wouldn’t leave you like this.”

  Larson nodded, his eyes begging.

  “And I suppose you did tell me the Professor’s location, so you held up your end of the bargain.”

  “That’s right. I did.”

  Green looked around at the tanks and then smiled. “Then I think it’s only fair that I give you the same chance you gave my men.”

  With three quick shots he broke the glass on three of the face-hugger tanks, sending clear fluid cascading down over counters and onto the floor where it mixed into a pink swirling river with Larson’s blood.

  Green saw one of the face-huggers slip off the counter and start for Larson as he shut the door tight and locked it.

  Beyond the door he heard Larson shout, “Oh, God! Noooooo!”

  Green smiled as he turned back to his men who were both applauding like crazy.

  He took a deep bow.

  Then he looked at them and let the biggest smile he had ever remembered feeling cross his face. “God, that was fun!”

  20

  The alien’s sharp claws were cutting at her chest and arms as it raised her from the floor like a child and held her in front of its ugly face.

  This had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. She would wake up screaming at any moment. She wasn’t about to die after all this time in the same way Danny had died.

  This had been her nightmare more nights than she had ever wanted to count and now it was coming true.

  God damn it all to hell! She wanted to see her children just one more time.

  But that wasn’t going to be possible.

  She was going to die.

  The teeth of the alien seemed only inches from her face. Saliva dripped from them as it slowly opened its mouth. She twisted back and forth, doing everything in her power to pull the Kramer up and aim it anywhere near that ugly mouth and head. But the claws only cut her arms and stomach deeper the more she struggled.

  Inside, down in the black hole of its mouth, she could see the second set of teeth gleaming, pulsing like they wanted to come pouring out and ram through her face.

  “Hold still!” Hank’s voice screamed behind her. Somehow, through her sheer terror, through the silent screams she was afraid to let go of, she heard him. Hold still. Shit, what choice did she have? She could do that. She didn’t want to. She wanted to scream and twist and get free and run like hell. But somewhere deep inside she understood Hank’s command.

  She froze, forcing her body to become as rigid as possible, her eyes focused on the wide-open jaws of the alien.

  Her willpower stopped her from throwing up her last energy snack. Her eyes watered from the pain and the thick smell of alien rot as she forced them to stay totally open.

  Behind her she heard Hank shout, “The glass behind her! Blow it out!”

  Almost instantly the roaring sound of a half-dozen Kramers on fully automatic filled the room, mixing with the sound of glass shattering and water pouring like a river gone wild.

  Her mind screamed, What the hell was he doing?

  But she kept her body frozen like a log.

  The alien glanced away from her.

  Then suddenly everything went crazy at once.

  It felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under her captor. The bug jerked her up, then sharply down, the claws digging even harder into her flesh as the wall of water from behind the broken glass hit its legs.

  And then it let go of her as it went over backward.

  She slammed hard into the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of her and the water sent her tumbling across the hard tiles. She felt wrapped in a thick, oily jell. Slime.

  She did her best to tuck and roll, but she still banged her head twice, both times hard, before she finally stopped sliding.

  Again the sounds of Kramers screaming filled her every sense. Through her spinning head she had just enough thought to hope she was far enough away from that bug they were toasting to keep out of the acid. She covered her head and face and waited for the deadly shower.

  It didn’t come.

  Hank shouted, “Form a circle and watch every shadow and corner.” Then after what seemed like a long time but actually was only a moment, he was at her side, rolling her gently over on the wet floor.

  She opened her eyes, letting the room spin for a moment around her like she’d had way too much to drink.

  “You all right?” Hank asked, and she could see the look of panic and concern on both his and Kent’s face spinning over her.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. The room slowed its spinning and almost stayed put.

  Almost…

  She took another deep breath and it stopped.

  Thank God.

  She reached up and touched Hank’s face gently. “Did you get the number of that damn truck that hit me?”

  Hank looked at her for a moment, then laughed deep in his throat.

  God she loved that laugh of his.

  And this one special laugh was one she was going to remember for a long, long time.

  Assuming, of course, she lived through the next hour.

  * * *

  “I think I found them,” McPhillips said as he punched up one monitor and then another, filling the center of the wall with pictures from different angles of a main corridor in the living quarters.

  “Oh, God, no!” Bosewell said.

  Green felt his stomach twist with his worst fear. The joy he had felt from killing Larson a minute before was now totally gone, drained by the scene he saw on the wall.

  Three of his Marines lay dead in the middle of the wide main corridor. Teppo had his head
cut off and one arm was missing. Freeman was soaked in acid, his skin boiled away, his face missing. Bond had been gored through the chest by an alien jaw, his legs ripped from his body. All three still held their Kramers and looked as if they had all gone down fighting to the end.

  Seven, maybe eight alien bodies were scattered down the hall, attesting to the fight the men had put up.

  “Scan down the hall farther,” Green ordered. God, please, don’t let it be all of them.

  “Which way?”

  “Into the living sector.”

  McPhillips did as he was told and each new monitor showed more horror. A hundred meters up from the three dead Marines was a group of fifteen civilian bodies. Six dead aliens lay around them, most with their heads shot off, some with their legs gone.

  But what had killed the civilians had been acid from the body of an alien beside them.

  From the way it looked a bug was bearing down on them and one of the civilians had just opened fire at the alien’s body, causing the acid blood to pour over the humans in a flood of death.

  All their clothes had melted away and the entire mess was a steaming, ugly pile of red meat, human skeletons, skulls, and brown acid blood.

  Behind him Green heard Bosewell throwing up. He didn’t blame the man. He felt like doing the same thing.

  He took a deep breath. “Keep scanning,” he told McPhillips, who after a moment did as he was told.

  After what seemed like a long few minutes of finding nothing in either direction, McPhillips turned to Green. “Looks like that was just one firefight.”

  Green nodded. It looked that way to him, also. Robinsen must have assigned the three men to try to get the group of civilians back to the hangar deck and they’d been ambushed in the corridor.

  “Can you find the rest of the men?”

  McPhillips shrugged. “I could if I had a few hours and if they haven’t ducked into the ventilation tunnels and gone down.”

  Green nodded. It did look hopeless. He was just going to have to hope Robinsen and the rest of the men could fight their way to the ship. But now it might not be a bad idea to get there themselves. If the Professor was in the center of the alien section, they sure as hell weren’t going in after him. He was as good as dead and Green’s only wish was that he die slowly, with a face-hugger tight on his face.