Sawyer: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Earth Resistance Book 2)

by Theresa Beachman

Garrick frowned. “Okay, nothing’s happening with the lights. Something’s stopping the generator from powering back up. Julia. You got anything?”

  She rubbed her temple. “There’s no power to run diagnostics. We’ll have to check the coolant system for a blockage.”

  Sawyer wrinkled his nose and peered into the abyss. A ladder was bolted to the wall at his feet, descending into nothingness. “Is the coolant system going to be where I think it is?”

  2

  Frustration bit at Sawyer. Whatever the cause of the power failure, his gut wanted to drag Julia from the cold room and take her above ground to the safety of the open air. At least there he had a chance of spotting a ten-foot-tall Chittrix and protecting her. Here, threats lurked in every cramped, worn-out corner. Eight months of living underground in the safety of the CB was taking its toll on him.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw as Julia’s gaze connected with his.

  “Definitely down there?”

  Julia turned and glared at him and his doubtful voice. “Yes.”

  He ignored the dismissive tone, blocking his automatic response to her continued use of his surname. No matter how many times he’d asked her to call him by his first name, she stubbornly refused.

  The entrance door slammed across the room, and the slim shape of another woman came jogging up the access pathway.

  Garrick’s sister Violet was tall like her brother, but that was where the similarity ended. Her hair was a cascade of red-blonde hair that refused to be tamed even when she tied it up. Violet had been an army sniper before the invasion and weapons were perpetually attached to her body. Tonight was no exception. A pulse rifle hung ready and charged across her chest as she flexed her hands into smooth, black leather gloves.

  Sawyer raised his eyebrows and sighed at the dark space on the other side of the safety barrier. “No emergency lighting. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it? I love how whenever something stops working, it's thirty feet down in the dark where are there are no lights, and you can't see jack shit.”

  “That’s what flashlights are for,” interrupted Violet, drawing near to the small group.

  She walked past him, hesitating near the middle of the rail. With a screech of metal, the gate was open. She leaned out into the darkness, her body tensed for anything untoward below.

  Violet grimaced. “Can’t see a damn thing.” She switched on her flashlight and swung her lithe body out onto the ladder and began to descend. “Are you going to get your backsides in gear, guys?” she shouted up from the darkness, her steps echoing on the metal rungs of the ladder.

  Garrick rolled his eyes as he clipped his flashlight to his belt. “She only does this to show us up.”

  Sawyer’s feet hit the steel grate of the lower platform with a metallic clang. He traced the edge of the platform with his flashlight beam. It was approximately sixty feet long and ten feet deep, with a thick, enameled railing providing safety from the roaring water below. Ahead, light beams bobbed and stabbed as Garrick and Violet scoured the far end of the platform.

  This far below the base, the surrounding walls were rough-hewn rock, a combination of man-made and natural excavation. Jagged crags gleamed on the walls, sparkling with mineral deposits interspersed with nimble-footed lichens in a shadowy mulch of ochre and rusty red.

  On the far western side, the ancient river flowed through a low, wide archway. It swirled into the cave, entering the hydroelectric power grid before exiting on the eastern side. Water spun and foamed, filling the air with a wet mist that tasted metallic on his tongue. The rushing boom of the water as it surged into the cavern echoed in Sawyer’s ears, making it difficult to concentrate.

  Julia followed him onto the platform, rubbing her forearms. She stepped in front of him, her hands fumbling for the safety rail. As her fingers grabbed the metal, her flashlight slipped, bouncing off the toe of his boot and going dark.

  Sawyer picked up the flashlight and returned it to her grip. His thumb flicked the switch and yellow light spilled out again. “You okay?”

  Her breath tickled the hairs on his hand as she held onto him for a second longer than necessary.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered.

  His hand slipped to her hip, pressing gently.

  “All clear.” Violet’s voice sounded far away, her flashlight bobbing on the far end of the raised platform. The beam danced over a multitude of pipes. Thick as a man’s thigh, they rose from the water to the plant machinery above.

  Julia shivered under his touch, trembling through the curve of her hip to his fingertips. Her breath fluttered, her chest heaving, but she straightened and eased away from him. Just the usual. He wanted to show the world she was his, while Julia kept insisting they needed to keep everything under wraps.

  She edged past him to the rear of the platform where the control panels were stationed. An original analog system, they were composed of numerous small glass-fronted dials. Silent black and white counters that should have been ticking in steady movement were motionless and thin needles were rammed to the far right of each dial, pressed against the red warning bars.

  Julia tapped her fingers on the glass, her fingers automatically flicking the required switches nearby. “The entire system’s overheated.” She squatted, tracing the body of the machinery with her fingers as if sensing the fault within.

  Sawyer marveled at the quickness of her mind as she processed everything in front of her. He could reassemble a pulse rifle blindfolded with one hand, but engineering was Julia’s baby.

  “The emergency stops have kicked in and shut everything down. We’re lucky they still work on a system as archaic as this one,” she said.

  “Can you fix it?” Sawyer asked.

  “Probably, but the intake valves need checked.” Her glasses slipped as she bent, forcing her to push them back up her nose in the sweet way that drove him crazy. She hummed in concentration.

  Sawyer knelt beside her, cold metal digging into the flesh of his knees. Julia stuck her hand through the railing. “Some of the intake taps are visible, but there are more submerged.”

  Sawyer followed suit, his fingertips brushing taps just below the water line. “They feel ragged to me. Damaged.”

  Garrick and Violet came up behind them.

  Julia directed their attention with her flashlight. “There’s a problem in the lower intake valves. There’s a grill under the waterline, so we can walk in without being fully submerged. I reckon it’s about waist deep.”

  Violet inclined her head in acknowledgment. “You going to go in and check them then?”

  Sawyer glanced at Julia.

  “I…” Even in the grim lighting, she blanched, her fingertips snatching protectively at the base of her throat. “Of course.” She dropped her hand from her neck and hugged her shoulder, taking a faltering step toward the rail.

  Sawyer had spent his entire working life as a Police Officer and protection came second nature to him. He interrupted. “I can do it.” His gaze never left her. “Julia should be keeping an eye on the systems up here.”

  She fired him the briefest glance of gratitude as she retreated to the control panel. Maybe later she would tell him what was up.

  He exhaled noisily. “Seems I’m going swimming.”

  3

  Sawyer lowered himself into the river, trying to ignore the cascade of misgiving flowing through his brain.

  Icy water soaked instantly through the thick cotton of his trousers, chilling his skin. As he stepped off the last rung of the ladder and onto the underwater platform, it became clear the river was running high, the water deeper than the waist-depth Julia had estimated. The current swirled around his chest, tugging under his armpits, forcing him to widen his stance to keep from falling over and his breath shuddered in tight gasps as his body adjusted to the cold.

  “Sheesh. Water’s freezing.” His teeth would be chattering in a few minutes.

  “Stop being a baby.” Violet hung over the edge, directing light over the constan
tly shifting surface. Garrick knelt beside her, pulse rifle raised in readiness. Sawyer was both reassured and freaked out by their attentiveness.

  Garrick gave him a thumbs up. “The only weird life in the water is you, mate. You’re good to go.”

  Sawyer flipped him the bird and edged sideways toward the main bank of water intake pipes, concentrating on every step. Julia tracked him from above. Even in the darkness, her intelligent face was ashen and pinched, her eyes creased with worry. Something was troubling her, something more than the darkness and the water, and he had no idea what it was. She kept herself to herself, and even though he knew every inch of that soft and alluring body, he still had scant idea what was running through her scarily brilliant mind. Nothing new there. Every woman I meet is an enigma. Tousled blonde hair and blue eyes shimmered in his memory for the briefest moment and his stomach tightened. Keep moving.

  His feet shuffled along the grating, his hands following the path of horizontal conduits. Tension pricked his scalp as he inched further, excruciatingly aware of the surging black mass of water behind him.

  Think about something else.

  He glanced up at Julia, appreciating the sweep of her toned legs above him. He knew so little about the hot scientist who increasingly derailed his thoughts in the most delicious ways but he wanted to know everything. If only she would let him.

  Finally, he was at the intake valves. Red circular controls lurked under the surface of the water.

  “Controls are under the waterline. This crappy flashlight better be waterproof,” he muttered.

  He shone the light under the surface, trying to see what the problem was. Dirt and debris swirled in the light beam, obscuring his vision. His numb fingers traced over the valves one at a time, trying to ascertain the extent of the damage. As he bent, the water swirled around his neck and chin. He stretched his arm taut, closing his mouth tight as his face dipped into the icy water. The first few taps were smooth, but further on, his fingertips grazed rough edges and warped metal. He swung his flashlight around, playing the beam over the misshapen machinery. Then the damn thing stuttered, blinked and went out.

  “Shit.”

  “Sawyer, you okay?”

  Sawyer pressed his lips tight to keep from smiling. Julia generally acted as if she didn’t give a damn, so he savored every little indication that she did.

  “I’m fine. Bloody flashlight is playing up. Stupid. Geriatric. Equipment.” He pulled it out of the water and shook it hard. It rattled in an unhealthy, cheap-plastic kind of way. He knocked it against the rail. Nothing. He swallowed, rubbing away the tightness in his forehead with the back of one grimy hand. They had gathered a significant amount of modern equipment in the last eight months, but there was still plenty of ancient crap lurking all over the damn place.

  Suddenly something slammed against his legs, knocking him clean off his feet. His hands shot out, grabbing for purchase on the water-slick pipes. His heart rate spiked as his brain dumped adrenalin into his bloodstream, his mouth suddenly swilling with bitter river water.

  His hands locked onto a pipe and he regained his footing on the grate. “Dammit.”

  “Sawyer?” Garrick was only inches above. Violet hovered next to him, stepping from foot to foot in nervous anticipation.

  Shit. Violet never worries about anything.

  “Something hit my leg.” He squinted. “It’s bloody impossible to see. Might have been a log or something.” God, he hoped so. He risked a glance over his shoulder. The churning surface of the water was opaque like black oil, and the roar as it entered the cavern obscured any other sound. He might as well be deaf and blind.

  Sawyer threw the dead flashlight up onto the metal platform. “Valves are distorted. There’s too much crap in the water to see how badly. We’ll need to wait until the river drops before we can have a proper look. Julia, which ones do I need to make sure are open to get the basics back up and running?”

  Julia turned away from him, her head bent in concentration. She ran her fingers over several dials before she turned and spoke to him.

  “Bottom four.”

  Of course. The lowest ones.

  “Give me the crowbar.”

  Garrick raised his eyebrows in sympathy then scooted back onto his feet, retrieving a battered-looking crowbar from the kit bag he’d brought with him. He passed it to Sawyer along with a headlamp. Sawyer hefted it in his hand. The tool was reassuring and solid in his palm.

  Sawyer tucked the crowbar between his knees and strapped the powerful headlamp against his forehead. He dipped his head, strobing the beam underwater. His legs stood in a maelstrom of sludgy debris, but there was nothing else on the platform with him.

  No damn Chittrix. Let’s get this fixed and get the hell out of here.

  He sucked in air and ducked under the glacial water, pulling himself down to the lowest valves, hand over hand. He touched the warped taps. The metal was gouged and the tap and panel notches were no longer aligned.

  The tap had been turned off.

  What the hell?

  He rammed the edge of the crowbar into one of the deformed taps, nudging it gently. It resisted, forcing him to increase the pressure. Reluctantly, it shifted with a perceptible vibration as water began to flow again. The next two also released in quick succession. Sawyer surfaced, gasping with the effort.

  “That’s working.” Julia’s voice rang out as she reset the coolant system on the panel above. A deep-throated growl permeated the air as the system rebooted and came back online.

  “One more to go,” Sawyer muttered. He ducked for the last time, slipping the crowbar between the gaps in the valve tap.

  The damage must have weakened the tap and it snapped, firing the crowbar free. Sawyer plunged forward, his feet skidding from the solidity of the grate, his hands scrabbling for purchase.

  Then he was hit from the side again. Painful solidity slammed into his ribs, smashing him over the safety rail and into the void of the river. Darkness engulfed him as the current tossed him into a glacial maelstrom. He clutched the crowbar, hugging it to his chest for protection. Sawyer forced his eyes open. Shadows and light blurred in a disorientating kaleidoscope all around him. Where the fuck was up? Air fought to escape the restraint of his lungs. He kicked in the direction where the water was brighter.

  The crowbar was weighing him down, so he dropped it. As it fell from his fingers, a sleek, elongated shape fired past him. The drag from its swift passage tugged at his body, spinning him, and his knuckles abraded against the dark switch of a thin, arrow-like tail.

  Then it was gone.

  Bubbles erupted from his mouth in a torrent of panic, his arms and legs propelling him toward the milky light in a blind rush of fear. He exploded from the water, his hands slapping flat on the surface as he spun to get his bearings. He was perhaps eight feet from the platform where he’d been only moments before. Julia and Violet were hanging over the rail with their flashlights held aloft. Garrick was already down the ladder, chest-deep in the river.

  Waves broke in Sawyer’s face, driving into his lungs. He coughed and spluttered as he struck out for the platform, reaching it in four strokes. Garrick extended one arm, while his other gripped the ladder. Their hands connected in a solid lock that pulled Sawyer to the edge in an efficient snatch. Sawyer half-climbed, half let Garrick drag him up the ladder where he collapsed gasping on the platform. Water poured from his clothes, streaming to the darkness beneath. He rolled onto his side and spat out muddy water.

  “Something…in the water.” Julia knelt at his side, cradling his head from the sharp edges of the grate.

  Her voice was soft in his ear. “Sawyer. You fell.”

  He shook his head. Adamant. “No. Something knocked me.”

  He crawled forward until he was at the very edge of the platform. The knuckles of his right hand were raw, as if he’d dragged them down a sheet of sandpaper. Blood oozed from the torn flesh. He stared at the rushing channel below, holding his breath, but n
othing surfaced.

  4

  Julia grasped Sawyer’s shoulder and he sagged back into the curve of her arms. She smoothed her hand across the top of his skull. He had a gash on his forehead that was seeping blood. He was probably concussed.

  “We should get this cut checked out. I can take you to the infirmary.”

  He shrugged away from her caress. “Later.”

  Julia let him go and drew a long, low breath while her heart battered against her ribs like a scared bird. Her legs wanted to bolt from the room, but she forced herself to remain where she was, ignoring the fear loosening her muscles and narrowing her vision. She wiped her clammy hands on her cargo pants and pulled in a shaky breath. She didn’t deserve to be traumatized by what amounted to nothing by most other survivor’s standards. She’d been safe at Magdon Down while the world had been torn apart. She hadn’t lived through the invasion the way ordinary people in their homes had. She’d been spared so much of the brutality, and yet her mind would not let her past rest.

  Fuck.

  Violet paced the edge of the water, her pulse rifle trained on the river.

  Garrick scrutinized Sawyer. “The water’s pretty filthy. Are you sure you saw something?”

  As Sawyer pulled himself up, Julia touched the back of his head briefly in a gesture of private solidarity. He staggered slightly as he straightened to his full height. Julia was far from petite, but she always felt dwarfed next to him. This fighter who’d tackled Chittrix without a moment’s hesitation was spooked.

  Her fingertips tingled, and her breath was shallow and rapid but she stood with him, concealing her discomfort.

  Sawyer shook his head. “I thought so. But a Chittrix would have attacked.”

  Garrick nodded in agreement.

  Violet kicked the wall on the far side of the platform, knocking a few stones loose. She approached Sawyer and the others. “There’s no norm for the Chittrix. That’s the one creepy factoid we do know.”