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

by Theresa Beachman

  Anna touched Julia’s hand. “That’s a lonely way to live.”

  Easy for you to say. Julia stood, sliding her hand away, desperate to move the subject off her emotional inadequacy. She walked over to Violet.

  “Any luck?”

  Violet shook her head. “I’ve been over and over these maps. The sewers. The river. Even conduit maps. Plenty are big enough for a Chittrix to travel through.” She blew a curl of auburn hair from her forehead. “To be honest, I’m amazed London hasn’t disappeared into a sinkhole, there are so many underground tunnels and sewers beneath it. Damn Chittrix could be anywhere.” She pushed back from her seat.

  “May I?” Julia asked as she grabbed a stool.

  Violet indicated the map in front of her. “Be my guest.”

  Julia took the mouse and flicked through the screens one at a time. Her concentration narrowed and focused, blowing away the cobwebs of emotional indecision. Her heart rate eased as she slid back into her comfort zone: work.

  She clicked through the screens Violet had accessed. Sewers. Ordnance Survey maps of the rivers. Conduit tunnels. Tube stations. Air-raid shelters. She overlaid them on top of each other and narrowed in on Crossness. There were two separate entrances to the station, and running parallel, the air raid shelters where the scavengers grew plants.

  She leaned back and tapped her fingers on the wooden counter, her mind processing possibilities.

  She scowled at Anna. “Doesn’t make any sense. They must be here.”

  “Hmmm,” Anna muttered her agreement. ‘Are we looking too hard?”

  “What does that mean?”

  Anna jogged over to a whiteboard that stood on an easel in the corner of the room, a relic from when the base held an active military presence.

  “Pen?”

  Violet tossed over a thick marker from the desk drawer in front of her. Anna caught it deftly, then turned and faced the board, speaking out loud as she drew.

  “So we have these swimming Chittrix which have attacked us here, and also the scavengers in their base. Both times the Chittrix came from the water. We’ve been searching for their nest based on a source of water we can identify on the maps. But in doing so, we might be missing something.”

  “We are missing something, Anna. We can’t bloody find them.” Violet said in exasperation.

  Anna snapped her fingers at Violet. “Exactly. The whole water thing and the sewers have derailed us. What if they’re using the sewers only to get around?”

  Julia contemplated what Anna was saying. Even Violet had straightened from slouching over the desk.

  “Chittrix build their hives above ground, but the primary hive also went deep below the surface?” Julia offered.

  “Exactly.” Anna stepped back from her squiggly drawing on the white board with a disappointed frown. “I’m a bit rusty. Take my word for it, this is an ant nest. You can see there are rooms or chambers built in between tunnels. The whole thing continues down in a stepped manner. Tunnels to rooms on the horizontal, and more vertical channels going deeper. All hidden and safe.”

  “You think they’ve been digging?” asked Julia.

  Anna nodded, excited. “Yes. We know they’re in this area somewhere, but we’ve been focusing exclusively on historical information. That’s been our mistake. They’ve redrawn the maps.”

  “Damn,” Violet said.

  Anna continued scrawling on the board, connecting slashing lines of marker pen, enthusiasm lighting up her face. “What if they’ve dug new tunnels in the area around Crossness?” She stepped over to the screen on the wall and circled the area with an expansive gesture of her arms. “We have sonar technology we can use to locate new passageways or chambers not in our records.”

  She smiled. “We can still find them.”

  27

  Sawyer stared unseeing at the weapons checklist on the table. Racks of weapons surrounded him. The ammunitions room was well stocked thanks to frequent forays.

  Garrick had asked him to assist, ostensibly with the plan of assembling supplies from the ammunition room for remapping Crossness. Sawyer knew he deserved a grilling. It was a miracle Julia had only cut her head. An awkward fall, the edge of the granite catching her neck, and she might have been paralyzed or even killed. Dead. He inhaled through clenched teeth. He wasn’t going to think about that. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Darr was gone. Those unreadable, dark eyes and expressionless face. The man was bad news through and through.

  “You going to tell me what that mess with Darr was all about?”

  Sawyer studied his hands, weapons forgotten. “I lost it.” He glanced up at Garrick. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Anna told me about Beth. I’m sorry.”

  Sawyer grunted.

  “If you need anything…”

  Sawyer scrunched the list he’d made up in a ball. They didn’t need a list. They just needed to pack as much firepower as humanly possible into the Tactical Support Vehicles and blow the Chittrix into the sky.

  “When I saw Beth, I thought I’d been given a second chance. Then just like everything else, the Chittrix destroyed her. I wanted to make up for what I did.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he confessed.

  “Putting away her drug-dealing brother?”

  Sawyer shook with a short, harsh laugh. “Yeah, I messed it up. She was so angry.” He scraped a hand across the top of his head, remembering her spitting in his face while two uniformed officers dragged her screaming like a banshee into a waiting squad car.

  “You tried to protect her. You did what you thought was best, what you were trained to do. She had choices too. You can’t be held responsible for everything that happened.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t change anything. I screwed up. She trusted me.”

  Garrick rested his knuckles on the table, next to the MP5 submachine guns. His blue eyes burned into Sawyer with unrelenting intensity making Sawyer fidget.

  “You have something good with Julia. Don’t mess that up. Let Beth go.” Garrick stood back, running a palm across his face. He had watched his brother die in combat with the Chittrix. He jerked a thumb toward his own chest. “I’m a prime example of that. Losing Tom nearly killed me.”

  “That’s easier said than done.”

  Garrick swore under his breath. “When did you decide you have unlimited time to work these things out?” he asked in a caustic tone. “None of us know if we’re going to be alive tomorrow, and you’re wasting time feeling guilt for past events you’ll never change.”

  Garrick unhooked a pulse rifle from the wall restraints and laid it next to others on the table. He walked past Sawyer to reach the energy packs clipped behind him. He squeezed Sawyer’s shoulder. “Sometimes you act fucking stupid, mate. But you’re not. You can move on.”

  The door crashed against the wall, and Foster stormed in. He instantly zeroed in on Sawyer’s battered countenance. He raised his eyebrows, taking in the still-swollen and blood-crusted nose. “I clearly missed all the fun.”

  Garrick shook his head, detaching the energy packs and lining them up with the pulse rifles.

  Foster went to where the explosives were secured, flipping out a key on a thin, metal chain from under his worn t-shirt. He unlocked the storage unit, opening the doors wide to reveal the broad shelves.

  He rubbed his hands in anticipation and crooned, “Hey babies. I missed you.” He straightened, his face serious. “I hear it was daggers at dawn with Darr?”

  Sawyer grunted. “Darr was asking for it.” He dropped his head, embarrassed. “Julia got in the way, trying to separate us.”

  Foster whistled. “I saw her. Big dressing messing up that clever head.”

  Sawyer picked up the power packs and began inserting them into the stacked pulse rifles, jamming them in with more force than was necessary. He was still angry with himself, not about the past, but about now, the present, and what he had with Julia. Perhaps if he’d been honest about Beth, the whole thing wouldn’t ha
ve blown up in his face.

  Foster bent to pick up rigid silver cases for transporting the explosives. “Letting scavengers come back here was a mistake.”

  “They just saw one of their group blown up with a Chittrix. You think we should have just left them there to pick up the pieces?” Garrick’s tone was curt.

  Foster grimaced. “No, but—"

  “And the children?”

  Sawyer huffed out a long breath, shaking his head. “It’s a bloody mess.”

  Methodically, Foster piled up matte-black explosive units and magnetic timers on the table. “So what’s the plan then. Are we going to blow up Darr and his goons now they’ve left us?”

  Garrick shot him a look.

  Foster held his hands up. “Just playing.”

  “Anna thinks we’ve been searching in the wrong places,” said Garrick. “We’ve been relying on the maps and ignoring basic Chittrix behavior—and it isn’t swimming.”

  Foster flashed his teeth. “Fill me in on her insecty insights.”

  Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corners of Sawyer’s mouth. These were good men, and he was damn lucky to have them.

  Garrick rolled his eyes and picked up a green kit bag rammed with pulse rifles. “Anna suspects they’ve dug new tunnels or connecting chambers near Crossness. Today’s plan is to map the area with acoustics and compare that to the cartography we already have. Hence the day trip.”

  He yanked open the ammunitions door. “I’m going to take these down to the vehicle hangar.” He nodded in Foster’s direction. “Don’t be too long packing those up.”

  Foster ran his hands lovingly across the explosive devices. “Can’t rush my girls.”

  The door swung shut behind Garrick, leaving Foster and Sawyer alone.

  Sawyer pulled re-breathers from the shelf and added them to his kit bag. Compact emergency devices developed offshore for underwater use, they would give approximately ten extra minutes of air when surfacing wasn’t possible. Not something he wanted to think about, but he packed them anyway.

  “So are you coming today? Or do you have someone to see?” Foster asked, happily running the pad of his thumb across enough explosive to detonate most of London.

  Sawyer remained silent, checking the MP5s, sliding them into another kit bag.

  “Okaaaay. Big guy doesn’t want to talk ladies.” Foster held his hands out in exasperation. He tapped his lip. “Guess I’ll just shut up.” He wiggled an eyebrow suggestively at Sawyer.

  Sawyer paused, his hands resting on the black weaponry, indecision weighing heavy on his mind. Fuck it. He’d kept his secrets far too long.

  “I’ll see Julia later, once she’s had the chance to rest. I don’t even know if she’ll speak to me yet.”

  “You took a hit, man. She’ll forgive you.”

  “I hope so.” The words tumbled out, surprising him. There, he’d said it. God, it felt good to say. Why had he waited so long to tell anyone? “I really like her.”

  Foster smirked. “Clever, great sense of humor, badass in the science department, curves to die for. Not a lot to dislike.”

  “She deserves more than me.”

  Foster frowned and paused in his packing. “That’s loser talk, bro. What’s the deal with that?”

  “Beth—the woman who died. I knew her before, when I was undercover in a drugs sting. My testimony had her convicted.”

  Foster scowled. “Sounds right. No one can blame you for that.” He concentrated, analyzing Sawyer’s expression. “Except perhaps you?”

  Sawyer chewed his bottom lip. “Yes. And then to top it all off, I wasn’t straight with Julia. I told her some of the deal about Beth, but not all of it, and she found out from Darr instead.”

  “Ah.” Foster’s tone said it all.

  Exactly.

  “Time’s short, bro. No time for messing around anymore. If you like her, go get her.” Foster widened his eyes and winked. “Dr. Simmons is a classy lady. She wouldn’t be with you if she didn’t think you were good enough. There’s plenty of fine alpha stock in this base for her to choose from, and she chose you.”

  Sawyer laughed, his heart suddenly lighter for speaking his mind. And to Foster, of all people, who spoke to explosives like they had their own personalities.

  “I like her a lot.”

  Foster smiled. “Figures. I’ve seen the bodywork.”

  “She says she doesn’t want more. She wants to keep it casual.”

  “What, like friends?”

  “Friends with benefits. She’s quite clear.”

  “And that’s a problem?” Foster’s voice cranked up a few octaves.

  “It wasn’t, but I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Well, tell her you want more. It’s not a one-time decision only.”

  “What makes you the expert on relationships?”

  Foster tipped his head. “Ah. Well, let’s just say these,” he indicated the sleek row of matte devices in front of him. “These are not the only ladies in my life.” He patted his chest. “I just don’t like to brag about it and make everyone else feel sorry for themselves.”

  The door opened on the other side of the room, and Hardy stuck his head in, hanging on to the handle for leverage.

  Foster jerked his head in Hardy’s direction. “Especially him.”

  Hardy gave a dismissive shake of his head before flipping Foster the bird.

  “Hurry up. Coyote’s ready, and Violet’s burning everyone’s ears to go. And don’t forget the re-breathers. There might be swimming involved.”

  Sawyer smiled, the sick tightness in his chest easing for the first time in days. He picked up his now-full kit bag.

  Hardy let the door slam behind him, leaving Sawyer and Foster alone again.

  “Tell her, bro.” Foster pressed the last of his explosives into the plush black lining, securing each with a Velcro strap. “Just be honest and tell her what you’re thinking. Before it’s too late. It’s too damn easy for it to be too late nowadays.”

  Sawyer straightened his spine. He could do that. There was still time.

  28

  Sawyer squinted through the rain-smeared the glass as Hardy reversed the Coyote Tactical Support Vehicle into a commercial unit on a nondescript industrial estate on the outskirts of London. They were two blocks from manholes that accessed the sewer system. Puddles extended several feet into the building, relentlessly driven by the wind. Hardy parked the vehicle under the shelter of the wrecked roof, reversing through canted doors half-torn from their hinges. Inside, towering metal shelves extended into darkness, still filled with plumbing supplies.

  Anna carried Julia’s acoustic equipment while the rest of the team—Sawyer, Violet, Foster, Hardy, and Garrick—surrounded her in a defensive circle. Everyone was painfully alert, the events of the last few days still fresh in their minds.

  Sawyer watched the turbulent sky for Chittrix as he quickly checked the neighboring units for anything that moved. Drizzle whispered against his helmet, soaking his collar. He had a bad feeling about this mission, but the street remained deserted, and the only sounds were the rasp of his own breathing and the crunch of stones under his boots. The air was humid, unseasonably warm for the time of year, and his clothes stuck to his back in uncomfortable, damp creases.

  He pushed his unease to the back of his mind. He just needed to get through this and back to speak to Julia. He’d tried to find her before they’d left, but she clearly didn’t want to see him. She hadn’t been in her room, and no one could tell him where she was.

  He was almost glad when they pried the drain cover free and descended back into the darkness, switching on their headlamps and illuminating the dank dimness once more in bloody light. He licked his lips, tasting salt.

  Once his boots splashed into the sewer water, Sawyer automatically dropped to the rear of the group with Garrick. The two men worked a defensive arc in comfortable silence, one borne of many days spent protecting each other in London’s wasteland.

 
; Ahead, Anna walked between Foster and Hardy, focused on the digital screen she carried while Violet took the lead position as their most skilled sniper. Anna had marked out a wide, circular route around Crossness, one hopefully extensive enough to avoid any Chittrix but close enough to allow her to map the area for comparison.

  They walked quietly and efficiently. Only hushed words were muttered as they guided each other over hazards and through knee-deep water. Water streamed down the walls in narrow rivulets through swathes of spongy red algae while rats darted in and out of their flashlight beams, scattering at the intrusion, their yellow teeth bared. Hardy swore at the rodents while Foster knifed several, cursing before tossing the dead bodies away.

  When Violet held up her hand, the group came to an abrupt halt. Sawyer’s ears strained for sound in the gloom. People. Not quiet ones either. They were making a racket that would attract any Chittrix within half a mile.

  Garrick turned and pointed, and Sawyer scooted forward, joining Violet, Hardy, and Foster as they continued into the shadows of the tunnel walls. Garrick took Anna’s elbow and retreated into the safety of the murky light.

  Filthy water dripped on Sawyer’s bare forearms as he pressed into the wall and springy algae flattened under the weight of his shoulders, making his skin crawl. He focused on his breathing, blanking out the pulpy texture of the plant growth. Male voices echoed ahead of them, loud and urgent. Jesus, they were noisy.

  Curses filled the air, and then the thundering clatter of bullets made Sawyer freeze and tighten his trigger finger.

  “What the fuck?” Foster hissed in Sawyer’s ear. The tunnel gaped dark and menacing ahead of them, blackness absorbing any detail.

  There was more gunfire and then screams.

  Sawyer moved ahead, skirting Violet. He indicated with a jab of two fingers for Hardy to accompany him. Violet and Foster followed, plunging through the knee-deep water.