“Then let’s have a look at Colleen first.” Cho glanced at Piotrowicz, and gestured toward the van. “You up to a quick look?”
Piotrowicz sighed. Wounded or not, carrying his pack or not, he was still the most experienced when it came to basic first aid. He trudged over, and Vogel went with him, unslinging her backpack. They disappeared inside.
Willis spoke up.
“Did you remember the receiver for the probes?”
Nigel looked at him and nodded.
“It’s in the van. Hardwired, actually.”
Willis headed over without asking, and Cho looked to Perkins, gesturing for her to go along. If the probes were working and recording, they might provide important information—including readouts with clues as to why the hell they weren’t working everywhere.
As Willis and Perkins neared the van, Piotrowicz and Vogel came back out. Vogel was holding the freakiest damned thing Perkins had ever seen, and looking like she might just puke her guts out.
The thing was pale, about three feet long, and hung from her hand by a thick, serpentine tail. The tail ran down to a body that boasted two bulbous sacks and long spidery limbs that had curled in on themselves, like a dead insect. It looked like a deformed cross between a crab and a spider.
Cho looked at the thing and blanched.
Vogel dropped it to the ground and Piotrowicz crouched over it, pulling a very large knife from his boot—the better to probe at the corpse.
Perkins stared and stepped back.
Hell’s gonna freeze over before I get close to that thing, she thought to herself.
Cho cleared his throat.
“Is that thing very, very dead?”
“Hell, yes.” Vogel nodded. “No way I’d’ve touched it if it wasn’t.”
“That’s the thing that tried to choke your friend?” Cho directed that at Silas.
The man nodded and swallowed nervously.
“Where is Colleen?”
Piotrowicz looked toward him. “She’s dead. I’m sorry, but it looks like she might have been shot.”
“But we don’t have any weapons.” Silas’s voice was very small, and he blinked back tears. Whatever existed between him and Colleen, he was feeling the pain of her loss.
“She’s got a hole in her chest. There’s no heartbeat. I didn’t see a hole in the window, but I suppose it’s possible she got hit when we were firing at those things.”
Silas’s eyes were watery.
“No, she was alive when we pulled up. She was lying back across a seat. She was unconscious, but I can’t see how you could have shot her.”
“Was anyone else on your team injured?” Cho asked.
“No. Just. Just Colleen.” Silas looked wretched.
Perkins thought she saw something moving, off in the shadows, but when she turned in that direction there was nothing. It still sent a chill through her. While she was looking, though, Willis climbed onto the transport and went in search of the receiver. Perkins sighed, and then followed.
The inside of the van was chaos. Items were tossed around and kicked under seats, equipment had been pushed aside or knocked over, and a lot of it probably was junk as a result.
Halfway down the length of the vehicle, flat on her back across one of the seats, a dead woman stared at the ceiling. The hole in her chest was huge and bloody, with ribs visible through a ruin of cloth, skin, and flesh. Perkins didn’t want to look at her, but she did.
The woman’s body was still stippled with sweat, the skin wasn’t yet sallow, and the flesh wasn’t yet sagging—she had to have died within the past few minutes. A trail of blood ran from the wound all the way to the floor. Damned if it didn’t look like something had left little footprints in that mess.
Perkins reached over and closed the woman’s unseeing blue eyes, even as she mouthed a small prayer.
Willis was busy examining the readouts. She stepped up behind him, careful not to disturb what he was doing.
“What did you find?” Her voice was enough to make the man start. His eyes rolled toward her, and he clutched at his chest.
“Not much,” he said, sounding disappointed. “I mean, the readouts seem to have died.” Perkins looked at them and saw what he meant. There was a good amount of information and a decent rendering of the dig site, but either the probes had stopped recording information or—more likely—the interference between here and the probes was blocking any further reception.
“Shit.” She shook her head. Enough. She didn’t want to be around the corpse any longer anyway. She climbed out of the van and headed back for her group.
By the time she got there, the majority of the research team had calmed down a bit more. A couple of them had actually joined Piotrowicz in his examination of the spider-like thing on the ground, and most of the others were looking at the larger life-form where it lay nearby.
“Whatever it is, I would hardly call it an advanced life-form,” Silas said. He seemed to have recovered enough for his scientific curiosity to kick back into gear. “There’s no evidence of a highly developed brain apparatus. I can’t even see how this creature can eat, in any way that makes sense to you or me.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit if it can cook a seven-course dinner,” Piotrowicz said. “For us, it’s a payday.” He dug into Vogel’s backpack until he came out with a sterile plastic bag. Vogel followed what he was doing, and crossed her arms.
“You put that goddamned thing in my backpack, you get to carry it. I’ve had enough of it—I don’t want it anywhere near me.”
“Quit being such a girl, Vogel.” Piotrowicz tried to smile, but it looked as if it hurt like hell.
“I am a girl,” she replied. “You should know, you’ve been trying to get in my pants for long enough.”
Willis stepped out of the van and put away his comm unit. He looked less than pleased.
“There was a problem with the equipment they were moving in the mine—they tried to move too much at one time,” he said. “The lift needs repairs, and it’s going to be another two hours at least, before they can get it down here.”
That sent a ripple of disappointment through the group, and several began to voice their objections. Before they could do so, Dwadji’s voice came through the comm.
“Still no sign of DiTillio, Rodriguez, or Joyce,” he said. “Manning and his group are going higher. They’re going to see how far the tubes go, and see if they can locate the missing team.”
“Tell Manning about the van,” Cho said. “Tell him we have… seven more with us.”
“Affirmative.”
Cho looked to Willis.
“Are there no backup lifts?” he asked. Perkins was pretty sure he knew the answer, and was grasping at straws.
“Not down here,” was the reply. “They only made it down a couple of levels, and were still working on clearing the rubble out of the way on the other side of the vessel.”
Piotrowicz walked over from where he’d been talking with Silas. He didn’t look happy. He was holding up the bagged body of the spider-thing.
“Well, if this thing is indigenous, there’re probably more where it came from,” he said. ”But Doc Silas can’t say how many, or where.” He looked up at the silicon tube, and frowned.
“Where the hell did this one come from?” Cho asked, turning on Silas. His expression made it seem as if he held the scientist personally responsible.
“The expedition…” Silas began, cringing under the gaze. “We had only just broken through the latest wall. The ones we left behind—” He cut himself off. “The ones who went through the wall, they must have seen something, but they were cut off before they could report.” He looked at the creature. “For all we know, the thing was a pet gone feral, or the equivalent of a rat. We just don’t know. We weren’t expecting to run across something alive.”
“As much as they have their heads stuck up their asses, sometimes the Colonial Marines get it right,” Cho growled. “Protocols like quarantines come in
handy at a time like this.” Silas looked as if he wanted to explain himself, but Cho waved it aside. “We all know why the Colonials weren’t informed, doctor. We’re all here for the same reason. I just don’t like running around blind with not one, but two different predators on my heels.” He pointed to the dead thing that Lutz had dragged along. “What can you tell us about that thing?”
“It’s fast, it’s savage, and it bleeds acid strong enough to melt steel and pop galvanized rubber tires. I smeared a couple of them against walls on my way back here, and when they were hurt the blood ruined everything it touched.” Silas peered at it with open fear, as if he thought it might jump up and renew its assault. “Also, it has a second set of teeth inside its mouth, mounted on a very long proboscis.”
“Nasty—even if you get in a good shot, the sons of bitches can kill you,” Cho said. “What do you think, Mister Willis? Are these the things your employers want us to bring back, or is there something else out there?”
He looked around.
“Has anyone seen Willis?”
25
DARK TIDES
They waited for something to show up, training their weapons on each of the openings that led to the spot where they’d stopped to take a break. Decker listened for any sound, scanned for any feeling that might indicate that something was approaching.
Nothing.
All he got for his efforts was a raging headache.
After a short time, Manning chose a direction for them to go, up and toward what he hoped would be the ship itself. The tubes got larger the closer they came to the source, and with open space they would be better able to defend themselves without shooting one another in a chaotic firefight.
Decker was up front, with Manning. At times the tunnels became so cramped that they had to crouch, or crawl on hands and knees. The captured creature had been retrieved from where they’d dropped it, and the poor bastards in the rear had to drag it. The thing showed no signs of recovering from the third high-voltage jolt.
Maybe it’s finally dead, Decker mused. One down, and who knows how many more to go.
“These tunnels must be impervious to the bugs’ blood,” Manning commented. “Maybe it’s the same stuff as their hides, or something a lot like it. Silicon still seems like a safe bet.” He paused for a moment, then took a branch that rose steeply in what Decker hoped was the right direction.
“Whatever’s in their blood, I don’t want it splashing on me—especially in here,” the merc continued. “It sounds like the stuff messed up Piotrowicz pretty bad. So if we run into any more, use non-explosive rounds.”
“Why?” Decker asked. “I mean why non-explosive? Won’t they splatter, regardless of what we use?”
“The tunnels are fairly strong,” Manning replied. “But if they get blown to hell, we might not survive the fall.”
Decker knocked on the side of the tunnel. The result was a dull thud.
“No. I don’t think so,” he said. “We’re surrounded by dirt and rock now. Back when we started, the tunnel shook a little with each step. Now I think you could jump up and down, and never have to worry about it collapsing.”
“Good point, genius.” Manning looked down until he met Decker’s eyes. “All we’d need to worry about is having a few tons of dirt bury our asses. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Gotcha.” Decker had to admit it was a good point.
The air was thick now, and stiflingly hot. Any draft they’d had before didn’t stand a chance against more than a dozen tightly packed bodies, all taking in oxygen and generating body heat. He didn’t think they could actually suffocate, but it wasn’t helping his growing sense of claustrophobia.
He paused.
No. Not claustrophobia.
Despite the medications working in his system, his pulse was rising, he was starting to sweat again, and he fought to catch his breath. Every exhalation felt too shallow, and every intake was a sharp gasp.
“Shit,” he said. “I think they’re close again.” He closed his eyes and focused.
The thing behind him was starting to wake up again—it was still alive, and still radiated the primal urge to kill. But there were more of them around now.
Adams cursed behind him. She was trying to get her motion sensor to work, but when she hit it this time, it just gave a crackle of white noise, and the small screen showed nothing but digital snow.
It wasn’t just Adams. Several of the mercs had tried again, and failed.
“Where?” Manning tried not to sound exasperated. But he didn’t try too hard.
“Best I can tell you is they seem to be above us.” He pointed ahead, in the direction they were climbing.
Manning looked up, where the tunnel progressed for some distance into blackness. There was hardly any light, since the tightly packed bodies didn’t let much through. He reached for the flashlight he had strapped to his helmet, and increased the beam. Then he started moving again.
“Not seeing anything,” he said over his shoulder, “but I’ll keep looking, and you keep sniffing, or whatever the hell it is that you do.”
Decker didn’t bother to reply. Behind him, Adams also increased the power to her flashlight, but he wasn’t sure how much it helped. The tunnels were black and glossy—glossier now, as the moisture was thicker. He wondered if that meant this was a newer tunnel. Whatever the case, the damp in the air added to the damp crawling sensation on his skin.
“It’s close, Manning,” he hissed, keeping his voice low. “Really damned close!” The feeling of hatred aimed his way was so intense it burned. And somehow, the fury was directed at him.
But why? he asked himself. Was it Ripley? What could she have done to them? From what he had seen of the creatures, it was a miracle she’d survived. Of course, in the end, she didn’t… Had they marked her? Near as he could tell from the files, she’d never even been to the planet.
The idea seemed absurd.
They were still crawling upward, and they couldn’t have turned, even if they wanted to. Then, perhaps forty feet down the tunnel Decker heard a man call out in surprise in an area he had already passed. What the merc said was incoherent, more a bark of surprise than anything else, and a moment later the bark became a yell… and then a scream.
Adams pushed into him, half sliding her body along his as she turned as best she could. Her elbow jammed into his leg as she drew one of her firearms. There was a jumble of voices and bodies as the rest of the mercenaries did the same, struggling through the cramped space.
What came was a volley that hit his senses with explosive force, and a second after that the screams of pain began. The tide of bodies, pushing hard to get more room, combined with waves of surprise, and then anger. Yet despite the emotional flood, he felt that hatred again.
Manning cursed and turned, bracing his legs against the sides of the tunnel as he looked down and tried to see past Decker and the mercenaries.
“Pull back from it! Pull back!” he bellowed, but no one seemed to hear—or care. Then an unearthly hiss blended with the chaos of voices.
The monster tore through the first of the mercenaries, clawing and biting and pulling itself up the startled soldier’s body as it came. The man tried to fight back, which was where the first explosive noises came in. He opened fire, but all he hit was the wall. Rounds hit the hard surface, cracked through it, but despite Manning’s fears the tunnel survived the impacts.
Even as the man fired he was dying. The shape tore his chest open as it crawled up him. His screams were amplified by the narrow space, and then they morphed into a gurgle, followed by silence.
The creature was so intent on its prey—Decker himself—that it ignored some of the mercs that blocked its way, effortlessly thrusting them aside. It moved with an impossible speed, invisible in the darkness, until only three people remained between him and the thing that wanted to kill him. Looking down, he could see past the tangle of limbs—pushing, fighting, trying to get a bead on the thing.
And then he saw it, caught in a beam of light.
26
TRAPDOOR SPIDERS
It was bigger than the last one, or maybe it only seemed that way because of the narrow environs. Whatever the case, the woman closest to it—Kelso, he thought it was—opened fire. Her weapon chattered and her arms shook from the recoil.
The clawing, screaming thing below her shrieked and hissed and broke apart, pieces of its body flying back, leaving streamers of the thick goo that passed for blood within its chitinous body. It thrust forward one hand, which disappeared under the assault of her weapon. It tried to throw itself back, but there was no room for escape.
It screamed and it died, and from behind it, from below it, the screams from the mercenaries increased. The blood of the thing rained on them, burning whatever it touched—flesh, weapons, armor. The flesh screamed.
“Good work, Kelso,” Adams said, and she let out a breath. Decker did the same, unaware that he’d been holding it until then. “Sonuvabitch, how many down?” she added.
As the nightmare fell back, it revealed a wide hole in the top of the tunnel that hadn’t been visible before. It had been hidden within the intricate swirls of the black, glassy substance, enabling the creature to take them entirely by surprise. It hadn’t come from behind—it had dropped down from above.
Almost before he realized it, he saw the next nightmare crawling down, peering toward him. The sleek black face shifted as it sought what it wanted, and then he felt that eyeless gaze upon him, and he heard the first deep screech of hatred. The thing was moving, clawing its way up the wall, heading straight for him.
The woman who’d killed the last alien—Kelso—let out a cry and started firing. The people beyond were her comrades, but she wanted to live, and the demon below her, coming toward her, would kill her without even noticing. All that mattered was the prey.
New screams were added to the cries of pain. The creature opened its mouth, and revealed a second set of teeth that bulled into the woman’s calf and tore meat and bone apart, even as she fired into the oversized skull. It died violently, but the blood that flew from its death splattered the walls, the people below, and the woman who killed it.
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