A.L.I.V.E. (The A.L.I.V.E.Series Book 1)

by R. D. Brady

  “Did you take care of them?” Chris asked.

  She shook her head. “Not all of them.”

  “Well, we need to get moving, because the ones we know about are not the type I want to run into. We’re heading up or at least trying to.”

  “Yeah, we’ve been trying to do the same.” Leslie paused. “You realize there’s a chance these things have already overrun the security outside, right?”

  Chris nodded. “Yeah. Backup plan is to get to the older tunnels, which are on the eastern side of the base. They should link up with Edwards.”

  Greg looked at them both, wide eyed. “The tunnels? They exist too?”

  “What tunnels?” Maeve frowned.

  Greg turned to her, his smile big. “Oh, you so need to read more on secret government projects. Back in the 1970s, the US got patents for these huge tunnel diggers. They could dig seven miles a day through rock, leaving the walls sheer. And allegedly they were used to create tunnels linking major US bases. The tunnels allow the government to hide projects they don’t want people to know about and allow transport from one base to another. There’s supposedly one under 51 that connects to Edwards Air Force Base and all the way out to Tulsa. In fact, 51 is supposed to be the hub. There’s supposed to be something like twelve bases connected all through these underground tunnels. There’s even supposed to be some sort of super train that links them all.”

  “If those did exist, wouldn’t they be the first thing they close?” Leslie asked.

  Chris nodded. “Yeah, but we ran into Dr. Sheridan. He said all the newer tunnel access points were closed. But on the old base, there are still some older access points that weren’t updated. They can’t be closed. And they’re so old, he doubts anyone would even remember them.”

  Maeve paused. “But wouldn’t they know there was another way out? I mean, the tunnels in general.”

  “They?” Greg asked.

  “The military,” Maeve clarified.

  Chris gave her a grim nod. Maeve stared at him, the truth flooring her. “They’re going to be coming through those same tunnels to clean out the base.”

  Leslie and Chris exchanged a glance.

  “What?” Greg demanded.

  Leslie spoke slowly. “If the tunnels exist, they will be blocking them off. And when they feel the threat of the aliens getting out is too great, they’ll bomb the installation.”

  “But not with humans still inside, right?” Greg asked.

  “They’ll try to get everyone out. But once the threat is deemed too high, they will bomb the facility regardless of who’s inside,” Chris said.

  Greg’s mouth dropped open. “But they can’t do that. We’re American citizens. We—”

  Leslie cut him off. “Signed away your rights. You’re conducting research at a secret facility that no one knows about. We wouldn’t be the first ones to have disappeared.”

  “So we can’t get out?” Maeve asked.

  “We can,” Chris said. “If they take that step, it will be hours from now. We’ll be fine.”

  The words sounded good, but as Maeve looked around the group she realized no one believed them.

  Not even Chris.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Greg moved as quickly up the stairs as he could manage, but his legs were killing him. He must have walked for miles throughout this facility. Not including the sprints of terror and Stairmaster from hell that were all the other flights of stairs he’d been on.

  I swear when this thing is over, I am going to start working out regularly.

  Maeve was in front of him with Pop sitting on her shoulders. He rested his head on the top of her head, his four-fingered hands placed gently on the side of her head. Greg watched all the little guys in awe. They were amazing. Dexterity, intelligence, telepathy.

  Why couldn’t I have gotten one of these guys instead of Hank?

  That thought led to a feeling of guilt. He had tried to kill Hank. And how had Hank escaped the container? Or had one of the other things broken in and let Hank out? And if so, was Hank still alive? And did someone break him out to help him or to eat him?

  Ahead, Pop snuck a look at Greg. Greg smiled in response. And the corner of Pop’s little mouth turned up.

  Yeah, I definitely would have preferred one of these guys.

  Leslie stepped next to Greg, keeping her voice low but keeping her gaze on the four aliens in front of her. “I don’t get it. Hank was easily a nightmare come to life. And we haven’t exactly run into any other aliens that I’d like to spend quality time with. You know how horrible these things can be. Why are you so sure these guys are harmless?”

  Greg looked over at Leslie. “Because it’s logical.”

  Leslie snorted, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “Okay, Spock, care to explain what you mean by that?”

  Greg smiled and had to restrain himself from mentioning just how much more attractive the Star Trek reference made her. “Think about all the animal species on the planet. You have the horrific—sharks, cobras, alligators, jellyfish, even polar bears. Basically, humans just need to stay away from them. They are both terrifying and a danger to man.”

  Greg smiled as Pop snuck another look at him. “But then you have those that wouldn’t even know how to hurt us: bunnies, chipmunks, butterflies, puppies. The alien world will be no less diverse. In fact, they’ll be more diverse. If each alien species comes from a different planet, there’s the potential that each planet has the same number of species as Earth. In fact, if they’re nicer to their planet than we are, then they’ll have even more species than we do. And on our planet, we have over 8.74 million species of animals. Plus, you figure they have to be as diverse as humans, of which there are seven billion. Yeah, some are real assholes. But there are others who aren’t. It makes sense that the same would go for aliens.”

  When Greg stopped speaking, Leslie just stared at him. He began to feel self-conscious. “What?”

  She shook her head before she smiled. “I keep forgetting with all your quirks, just how truly smart you are.”

  Greg stumbled a little. “Really? Cause that kind of sounds like a compliment.”

  “It is.” Leslie stepped away from him, once again taking the back. Greg forced himself to not turn around and watch her. He’d play it cool, like the guys in movies who don’t turn around when something explodes behind them.

  He lasted ten seconds before he glanced back. Leslie smiled at him, and he smiled in return before facing forward again. Wow.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  The wall of monitors in Martin’s office was alive with scenes of destruction, mayhem, and death. His analysts were all busy making sure no one outside of 51 heard a word of what was happening inside 51. It hadn’t been that difficult. They’d immediately shut down all cell phone and land lines. Internet connections had been dropped just as quickly.

  Martin watched Area 51 security surround Buildings 34 and 39 as well as the hangars that the aliens had been brought in from. But it was a honeycomb of tunnels underneath the base. Aliens and humans had popped up from tunnels all over the base. Security was running thin trying to cover all of it. The camo guys had even been pulled in from their usual duty surrounding the base to help cover the interior.

  On a screen second from the bottom, a camo dude stood at the corner of the dining hall, lining up his shot. He was so completely focused on the gray emerging across the street that he missed the other alien, a Croaxis-AG3, emerging from behind him. Martin tilted his head, watching the beast move. He’d wondered about its abilities. It looked kind of like a human-sized frog, except that it was purple in color. Its eyes were proportionally smaller than a frog’s, and it walked on two legs. The Croaxis lumbered closer to the man and then opened its mouth. The camo guy turned, but the Croaxis quickly lowered its mouth, encircling the man’s head. The man struggled for only a moment before the Croaxis yanked its mouth back. The body dropped to the ground, sans head.

  Hm, cooperation? Or merely c
oincidental timing?

  Martin referred back to his notes with a frown. There seemed to be quite a few instances where different alien species seemed to work together to defeat a human target. That in and of itself was worth the entire experiment. They’d had no inkling that the species could communicate. They assumed they came from different worlds. And maybe they did, but maybe their species had met before. Granted, they were clones, but still, there must be something there.

  And what does that mean for us? Does that mean that every species that’s visited this planet might one day return together? Was that what the Earth had in store for it? A joint invasion?

  Martin frowned. That was not something he had considered before. And he was not happy to be considering it now. He pictured the Majestic 12.

  Those fools. We’re years behind it all because they failed to act.

  In front of him, the screens shifted every minute, showing a different aspect of the base. They would continue to shift unless Martin tapped on the appropriate icon holding the feed in place. His eyes roamed over the pictures, pausing on a scene in the second row, three in. An alien with almost translucent skin slid from out of the air duct in Building 34.

  Around the corner, a solder walked carefully forward, his weapon at the ready. The alien walked, equally careful, from the other side. The soldier reached the corner first. The man started to raise his weapon, but then he dropped it, grabbing his head, his mouth open in a scream. The alien never touched him. Just watched him as he screamed and finally went still. Then the alien slid past him.

  “Huh,” Martin said, pulling up his files on the subjects. He flipped through until he reached Subject 47—Gliese-AG1, nicknamed Pasty. The subject had demonstrated an ability to transform its bones, making them flexible. But the telepathic abilities were not in the files.

  Martin smiled. See? Already learning new things, he thought as he typed in the new information, noting the time and camera for further review later.

  He shook his head. Wanda didn’t see the big picture, but once he typed up his notes and presented them to her, all of them would see why he was right. This project had been going on for thirty years. And yet, within the last few hours they had learned more about these alien species than they had in decades of study. Great accomplishments required sacrifice. And this one was paying off extremely well.

  Turning his attention back to the monitors, his gaze flicked from screen to screen. He’d focus on one monitor for a few minutes and make some notes before continuing on. In that time, he kept a running tally in the back of his mind on how many humans had been killed—forty-two so far. Granted, most were not soldiers, but the methods of death had been interesting nonetheless. A few research subjects had been killed as well but still, information was garnered. And information gathering was the goal of this particular game.

  His attention was pulled to a monitor in the top right corner. Is that a group? He sent the picture to the larger monitor on the wall to his right. Two men and two women were making their way up a stairwell. Martin tilted his head, squinting.

  What is on their backs?

  He sat upright in surprise—Subject 1 and his progeny. How on earth did they end up together? He punched in commands to bring the group into sharper relief.

  Let’s see who’s with you.

  His eyebrows rose when he saw Dr. Leander. So you’re still alive. How have you managed that? Apparently the daughter was every bit as intelligent as her mother. He frowned at the other humans in the group. He recognized her guard, Garrigan, but the other two were unknown to him. The woman was obviously a soldier. And even though the man held a weapon, he obviously was not. Martin scanned the files, finally stopping at the files of Greg Schorn and his military guard, Leslie Cole.

  “So what are you all doing with those subjects?” he murmured. The triplets had been kept on level eleven. There was no chance anyone associated with the other projects would have known of their existence. So how did they find them? He’d have to backtrack through the tapes to see when exactly they first linked up.

  But first he zoomed in on Subject 1. He remembered the elation he’d felt at its birth. Because he’d known that was the beginning of truly understanding the alien threat. And then everything had come to a screeching halt.

  But you’re still around, aren’t you?

  Dr. Leander reached down and touched the subject’s head, rubbing her hand over it, a gesture of comfort. When he’d heard that the former Dr. Leander had brought her child in to meet with Subject 1, he’d been only mildly surprised. She had taken to the subject like a mother to a child. But apparently that was a familial attachment the daughter also felt. In fact, as he watched, he couldn’t help but notice the protective way even the triplets were being held, and he knew for a fact there was no history of interaction there to account for it.

  Now that is interesting. He sat back, his hand on his chin. He had not considered the possibility of a team-up between aliens and humans—of actual affection and protectiveness between them. He’d seen the recordings of Subject 1—the being was fast, lithe, and had incredible balance. But what other tricks did he have up his sleeves?

  He quickly ran a trace in the files of the path of Dr. Leander and Subject #1. He wanted to see exactly how they had drafted the rest of the members into their little group. He reviewed the tapes, backtracking Leander’s progress, and he’d realized he’d been wrong. Subject 1 had been aggressive—to save his group. He’d taken out an alien threat with the aid of Garrigan.

  He zoomed in on Subject 1 as he was astride the alien species known as a Califax. “Just full of surprises, aren’t you?” he murmured. “But what happens when the threat is human? What will you do?”

  He pursed his lips, scenarios running through his mind. Finally he smiled and pulled over his radio.

  “Beta, this is Alpha.”

  “Beta here. Go ahead, Alpha.”

  “I have a group of four subjects and four friendlies who will be exiting Building…” He squinted, double-checking. “34 in about fifteen minutes from the southwest stairwell.”

  There was a pause at the other end. “Are the friendlies being chased?”

  “Negative. They are travelling together. I’d like you to set up a little reception for them when they finally reach the surface.”

  “Yes, sir. Are we protecting the friendlies?”

  “Negative. The friendlies seemed to have switched sides. Consider all targets priority targets.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Martin placed the radio back on the tabletop, wondering how the other aliens would react if the humans they were with were targeted by other humans. Would they go on the defensive? Would they kill one human to save another? Would they help kill the humans? And what exactly would that look like?

  Martin pulled his gaze from the monitor and texted a note to his assistant to grab him some lunch quickly. It would take Leander’s group some time to reach the top of the stairwell and then get outside. And his lunch should arrive just in time. He smiled.

  Nothing better than a show with your meal.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Something had been a few floors above them and heading down, so the group moved from the stairwell, back into the hallways on level four. None of them were interested in running into whoever or whatever it was.

  Now they were headed for another stairwell, and Maeve prayed it was unoccupied and allowed them to just get to the damn surface. She felt like a rat, wandering through this tunnel and that hallway. She was sick of it on multiple levels.

  Ahead, Maeve could hear voices. Greg, who’d been walking next to her, smiled and started forward, but Chris grabbed his arm, shaking his head. Quietly, they all moved into a small alcove. Maeve adjusted her grip on her weapon, her palms slick.

  Leslie peered around the wall as the voices faded away. “Clear.”

  “I don’t get it. Why didn’t we catch up to them?” Greg asked.

  Chris nodded to Alvie. “Most soldiers ri
ght now are probably on a shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later frame of mind. So until we’re sure, we need to keep these guys hidden.”

  Greg winced. “Oh, right. Sorry, guys.”

  “Let’s go,” Leslie said, stepping out of the alcove and turning at the end of the hall in the opposite direction the voices had disappeared.

  Alvie let out a small cry when he followed. Maeve dropped to her knees in front of him immediately. “Alvie?”

  But as she inspected him, she knew he wasn’t hurt, at least not physically. Her heart pounded. The cry he’d made had been the same sound he’d made earlier when he was thinking of the triplets. If there was another one of him, how would they get to him? They couldn’t possibly go back.

  Alvie’s eyes grew large, and he pulled himself from Maeve’s grasp. She stumbled back, catching herself with her hands as Alvie started to run down the hall. “No, Alvie!” She scrambled to her feet as Chris leaned down, taking Snap from her. “Go get him.”

  Just then, voices came from behind them. “Move,” Chris whispered urgently.

  But Maeve was already sprinting toward Alvie, who had stopped in front of a door, his hand pressed against the glass plane that covered half the door.

  Chris ran past him, two of the triplets in his arms. “Maeve, he needs to move.”

  Maeve nodded. “Go. We’re right behind you.”

  She grabbed Alvie’s shoulders as he stood transfixed, looking at the glass door.

  “Alvie, come on, we need to—” Her words cut off and her mouth fell open as a being stepped in front of the window. Maeve stared, shock rooting her in place. The alien was tall, maybe six feet with a disproportionately large gray head, large eyes, and thin arms. A dark blue shirt and pants covered its body—a larger version of Alvie’s outfit. In fact, the being himself looked like a larger version of Alvie.

  A tear pooled down Alvie’s cheek and he reached his hand up higher along the glass. The being reached its own four-fingered hand out, placing it on the opposite side of the glass from Alvie’s.