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

by R. D. Brady

  A screech sounded from somewhere to his right. Chris paused, uncertain, then decided that right was as good a direction as any. He turned and slowly made his way down the street. An engine sounded from ahead and Chris ducked into a doorway, pushing himself against the wall and into the shadows. A military truck passed—a type he’d never seen before. The back looked like an armored truck.

  It must be a containment unit.

  He waited until it passed and then glanced out. No movement on the street. He closed his eyes and focused on Alvie, part of him not believing that he was actually about to try this.

  Where are you, Alvie? I’m looking for you.

  He waited for a moment, not sure what exactly he was waiting for. He opened his eyes and shook his head.

  Well, that was stupid.

  He was just glad no one had seen him do it.

  He inched back to the edge of the building and looked out. He started to walk in the direction the truck had come from when he felt the slightest pulse in his mind, like a feather wiping across his brain.

  Alvie?

  A squeak sounded from down the road, and Chris picked up his pace. On the other side of the street, Alvie emerged, Crackle in his arms. And then Maeve stepped out with the other two in her arms.

  Relief poured through Chris as he drank in the sight of her. Her eyes grew large at the sight of him, and then a smile spread across her face. Chris jogged across the street, still keeping an eye out for any movement. He stopped in front of her and looked down. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  He reached out his hand and cupped her face. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Chris looked behind her and frowned. “Where’s Leslie and Greg?”

  “We got split up. But I think Alvie might be able to find them.”

  Chris knelt down and looked into Alvie’s eyes. “You okay, little buddy?”

  Alvie leaned his forehead into Chris’s with a sigh. Chris wrapped his arms around him. “It’s good to see you too, buddy.”

  An explosion sounded from somewhere to their left.

  Maeve put her hand on Chris’s shoulder. “I think that’s the direction Leslie and Greg went.”

  Chris nodded as he stood, helping Pop get situated on his back. “Well, then let’s go find them.”

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  Greg winced as Leslie tightened the bandage around his wound. “How’s that?” she asked.

  “Great,” Greg said, feeling light-headed.

  “We need to find everybody else. Can you walk on it?”

  “Yeah. I’m all right.”

  Leslie helped him up, keeping an arm around his waist.

  “It’s okay, I got it,” he said. He winced a little as his thigh throbbed but kept his balance, which he gave himself major points for. He glanced over to where parts of Hank lay and swallowed hard.

  They started to walk, and Leslie nodded toward Hank’s remains. “What you did—that was pretty incredible.”

  “I just kind of ran.”

  “Yeah, in a foot race with an alien who wanted you dead.”

  Greg stopped short and looked at Leslie.

  “What?”

  “You’re right,” he said slowly. “Hank wanted me dead.”

  “Yeah, they all want us dead. It’s kind of their thing.”

  Greg shook his head. “No. Maeve ran off with Alvie and the triplets. They were the easier target—small, vulnerable. But he didn’t go after them. He came after us.”

  “So?”

  “So that shows thought. That shows a plan. He wasn’t working by instinct.” His gaze fell on Hank’s arm, which lay on the top of a crate a few feet away. His mouth fell open.

  “What?” Leslie asked.

  Greg said nothing, just walked slowly toward the crate. He stopped next to it to inspect the arm. The familiar scales were there, the long talons. “There’s only three,” he whispered.

  “Three? Three what?”

  “Talons.”

  Leslie frowned. “One of them must have been blown off.”

  Greg shook his head, staring at the space on the hand where the fourth finger should have been. “No. Look—the wound has a clean cut, an old cut. It’s already scarred over.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  But Greg was afraid it made perfect sense. He looked around, his heart racing.

  “What?” Leslie asked.

  “This wasn’t Hank. This was someone else.”

  “What? Who?”

  Greg shrugged, the casual gesture completely undone by the tremors running through him. “I don’t know. He must have been part of a different project.”

  “But it was going after you,” Leslie said slowly. “Why would it do that?”

  Greg stared at the remains. He remembered Hank faking his death. He could control his bodily functions to a level that most humans couldn’t. But some could. Yogis were reportedly able to slow their heart rate to practically nothing. Tibetan monks were reportedly able to raise their body temperature to allow them to sit outside in freezing weather without experiencing frostbite. Hank seemed to have a similar ability to regulate some of his body’s functions.

  But that wasn’t the event in his mind that he focused on. He remembered one time when he’d had an assistant, Randall. After only being there for a day, the assistant’s behavior had shifted. He’d become angry at Greg. By the end of the week, he’d become so unhinged, he’d attacked Greg with a stool. Leslie had saved him, but Randall had been removed in restraints.

  When Greg went to visit him in the mental hospital the next week, Randall was back to his normal self and beyond horrified at what he had done. He couldn’t explain why he had reacted that way. He’d never been a violent person. If anything, he was the opposite. He’d just all of a sudden felt an overwhelming anger at Greg. The man had been baffled. Greg had been equally baffled and had written it off as some sort of psychotic break.

  But what if it wasn’t? What if the man had been influenced by Hank?

  “Do you remember Randall?”

  “Your assistant? The one who lost it?”

  Greg nodded. “I’ve kept in touch with him. He’s working at Los Alamos. He’s had no other episodes and still can’t understand what happened. He said he was overwhelmingly angry at me, but as soon as he left the building, it disappeared. But every time he entered the building, the anger grew again.”

  “Why are you bringing that up now?”

  Greg swallowed, looking around, the hair raising on the back of his neck. “I think Hank might have sent Randall after me. I don’t think it was Randall’s anger, I think it was Hank’s.”

  Leslie looked at him for a long moment and then shook her head. “But I’ve been with you almost every day for the last two years. I’ve never become psychotically mad at you. Just normal mad at you.”

  Greg studied Leslie. She was strong, disciplined, and capable. Randall had been extremely smart but otherwise he’d been insecure and socially awkward.

  “I think—” Greg hesitated. “I think it only works with certain personality types. You’re too strong. Randall wasn’t.”

  Leslie nudged her chin toward the remains. “Well, this guy wasn’t exactly a shrinking violet.”

  “Maybe it’s different interspecies versus intraspecies. All I know for sure is that this guy wasn’t Hank. But I’m almost positive Hank put him up to this. Somehow he communicated his hate to him. He shared his emotions. Hank got this guy to come after me. Which also means—” Greg broke off, feeling a little light-headed and not from blood loss.

  Leslie nodded, her face grim. “Which means Hank’s still out there. And he’s still looking for you.”

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  Greg walked along the street, keeping close to the buildings. Leslie led the way, stopping every once in a while to listen. They were heading back to where they’d last seen Maeve and the gang. And hopefully they’d be able to track them from there.
/>   Greg knew that he should be focused on his surroundings, because God knew what was out there. And it seemed they had both humans and aliens to worry about. But he couldn’t get Hank out of his mind. That thing that had chased them hadn’t been Hank. But he was the same species as Hank. Was it really possible for Hank to have conveyed his anger toward him?

  He thought of Alvie and how he could sense the other aliens. That ability opened the door to a whole host of possibilities for alien abilities. And some form of group-think was not out of the realm of possibilities. In fact, ants essentially shared one brain, with the queen being the one in charge. Greg swallowed. What if Hank was the queen ant of his species?

  Why couldn’t I have gotten a nice worker ant instead?

  Leslie went still, throwing out a hand to stop Greg.

  He tensed, looking around. “What?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. It’s—” She paused and then smiled, shaking her head. “Damn it, Alvie.”

  Ahead, Chris peeked his head from around a Quonset hut at the end of the street. Greg smiled as Maeve and the aliens came into view behind him.

  Thank God.

  Leslie picked up the pace and they met up halfway. Chris grinned. “Knew you’d be fine.”

  Leslie grinned back at him, but Greg could see how worried she’d been. “Same here. And I’m glad to see our friends are still with us.”

  Greg walked over to Maeve and ran a hand over Pop. “They okay?”

  “Yeah. How’d you guys get away from that thing?” Her gaze dropped to his leg. “What happened?”

  “We had a close call with Hank’s brother.”

  “Brother? That wasn’t your subject?” Chris asked.

  “No. But I think he probably was working on his brother’s orders.”

  “How’d you get away?” Chris asked.

  “Teamwork,” Leslie said.

  “A grenade,” Greg said at the same time.

  “Well, I’m glad you guys are all right. We need get out, and fast,” Chris said.

  “What happened?” Leslie asked.

  “They’ve initiated the Manhattan Protocol,” Chris said.

  Leslie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no.”

  “Is that as bad as I think it is?” Greg asked.

  Chris nodded. “They’re going to nuke the place. We have less than an hour to get a safe distance from the base. Any and everything within the base’s boundary will be eliminated.”

  Maeve turned her stricken gaze to Alvie and triplets. “How are we going to get them out?”

  “That’s not the only problem. I saw men in uniform shooting unarmed civilians, not just aliens.”

  “Well, this just gets better and better,” Leslie grumbled.

  “We can use the tunnels. You said the old ones were still working,” Greg said.

  “Can you walk all right?” Maeve asked.

  Greg felt his leg throb as if in response. “Walk, yes. Run? Not so much.”

  “Well then, let’s get moving.” Chris started down the nearest alley. In the distance, Greg could see a plane lying on a tarmac. It was maybe a quarter of a mile away. The tunnels were another half mile beyond that. So close and yet with everything they had been through, he knew it would be a miracle if they made it.

  “But why would they create something like that?” Leslie asked.

  “What?” Greg said.

  “The tunnels,” Leslie clarified.

  “The Cold War,” Chris said. “We wanted to make sure the Russians didn’t know what we were doing, especially with our air force and weaponry. So a lot of the research was moved underground.”

  “And allegedly these things are huge. Eyewitnesses have said you can fit two 747s side by side in them,” Greg said.

  Leslie shook her head. “But that, I mean, there’s no way—”

  “The government would keep projects hidden from the public view?” Chris asked dryly. “Remind me again why we’re hiding?

  “They can’t just create something like that,” Leslie said.

  Greg snorted. “With black budgets they can. I mean, honestly, how do you think we all get paid? It’s not like there’s some form being submitted to the Senate with ‘Alien Maintenance and Replication’ written on it.

  “Okay, so if these tunnels do exist, how do we get to them?” Leslie asked.

  “Sheridan’s tablet could tell us,” said Maeve.

  “Yeah,” Chris drawled, “but that’s back on level ten. And I don’t think I want to go grab it.”

  Alvie took Maeve’s hand. She glanced down at him as a map of the complex popped into her mind with focus on a hangar.

  She looked around at the humans. “I think Alvie knows where the entrance is. It’s a hangar. Hangar 22 on the southwest side of the base.”

  “Um, Greg?” Chris asked, his gaze focused down the street.

  “Yeah?”

  “This alien of yours. Any chance he kind of looks like a human alligator?”

  Greg frowned. “Yeah. How’d you—”

  Chris nodded down the street. “Because I think he’s right there.”

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  Everybody stared down the street where a large alien, six feet tall with an alligator-like face and humanoid arms, studied them. Chris grabbed onto Greg’s arm and started to back up slowly. “No sudden movements, anybody.”

  Maeve’s voice shook as she spoke. “I thought you guys said you killed him.”

  “No, we killed his brother,” Greg said.

  “There’s more than one?” Maeve asked.

  “Yup. Hank has a very ugly twin brother,” Greg muttered.

  A screech erupted from Hank’s mouth, sounding like a battle cry.

  “Okay, everybody back up a little more quickly,” Chris said.

  They only made it another six feet when Hank leapt from his spot and raced toward them.

  “Run!” Leslie yelled. They all turned, sprinting down the street. Maeve clutched Snap and Pop to her as she raced. Greg ran as best he could, his leg screaming in agony with each step. Chris wrapped an arm around his waist. “Grab onto me.”

  Greg threw his arm over Chris’s shoulder and picked up the pace. The end of the street loomed ahead. And then there was the unmistakable sound of engines. Two pickup trucks swung into view at the end of the street. Men in camouflage leaned out each passenger window and opened fire.

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  Maeve couldn’t believe her eyes when the men in the pickups started to fire at them. Leslie shoved Maeve into a small alley. Alvie ducked in behind her and Chris, and Greg brought up the rear. Maeve sprinted along, Snap and Pop clinging to her. Her legs ached and she worried they were finally going to give out. But she pushed on, knowing stopping meant death.

  Behind them, Hank let out a scream. At least, Maeve thought it was Hank. She didn’t turn around to check. In response, the gunfire picked up. Maeve burst out of the end of the alley and across the street. Leslie grabbed her arm before she could duck into the alley directly across from them. She pulled Maeve to the left and down the alley that ran along the building there. Maeve ran on, glancing back every now and then to make sure her group was still together.

  She burst out of the second alley. Leslie pointed at the Quonset hut ahead. “In there.”

  Maeve ran for the door and tugged it open before spilling inside. She held the door open as everyone else spilled in behind her and then closed it quickly. Leslie was already at the window.

  Chris helped lower Greg to the floor. “Anything?” he asked.

  Leslie shook her head. “No. I think Hank is keeping the soldiers busy.”

  “Small blessings,” Chris muttered, and then his eyes lit up. “Jackpot.”

  He crossed to a large cabinet on the other side of the room and slammed the end of his rifle into the lock. He pulled it open to reveal the interior, which was filled with weapons.

  Leslie joined him, already reaching in. “Now we’re talking.” The two of them divvied up wea
pons for a minute, taking as many as they could reasonably carry.

  Chris walked over to Maeve and handed her a machine gun and two magazines. “Okay?”

  She took them with a nod. “Okay.”

  Chris turned to Leslie and Greg. “All right, now let’s figure out how we’re getting across the runway. Those soldiers will see us when we’re out in the open.”

  “Could we get a car?” Leslie asked. “I mean, there are tons of them around.”

  Chris nodded. “I could probably hotwire something.”

  “We won’t need to. There’s a car lot next to the runway. All the keys are in a box by the entrance,” Leslie said.

  “Good. That’s good. We’ll head there.” Chris looked down at Greg. “I’ll help you over.”

  Greg shook his head. “No. I’m not going with you.”

  Chapter Ninety-Six

  Greg sat on the floor, his leg throbbing, each person above him looking at him with their own variation of ‘what the hell’ on their face.

  Maeve shook her head. “Of course you’re coming with us. We’re all getting off this stupid base.”

  Greg took a breath. He’d known ever since he realized the creature that had attacked them wasn’t Hank what he’d have to do. And now that Hank was after them, that decision had become crystallized in his mind. “No, I’m not.”

  “What are you talking about?” Leslie asked.

  “Look, I’m slowing you guys down. And I’ve got Hank on my tail. If I go with you, he’ll be coming after you as well. If I stay, you guys have a chance to make it. If I go with you, none of us make it.”

  Maeve shook her head. “No, you can’t do this. We’ll figure out a way to—”

  “Hank is tracking me. He’s looking for me. He’s not going to stop. There is no other way. Ask him.” Greg nudged his chin toward Chris.

  Chris narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”