Final Days: Colony

by Jasper T. Scott

  “So what are you going to do about the missing storage section? It’s four stories high. How the hell are you going to fetch that on foot?”

  Keller replied, “The thrusters should still be functioning. We’ll manually fire them and fly the section over here.”

  Andrew glanced at Eden One, as big and ungainly as an apartment complex or a row of townhouses. How does something like that fly? he wondered. Not to mention, how did it continue to have fuel after making a controlled landing? Andrew was no rocket scientist, but it struck him that it would take an immense amount of energy to lift one of those ship sections even a few inches off the ground.

  Yet another example of Hound’s advanced technologies.

  Andrew turned his gaze over to Keller, who was busy conferring with a pair of blue suits. One of them had familiar-looking markings on her jumpsuit. Were those army sergeant’s stripes? He’d bet his lunch on it.

  “I’d like to go,” he said, raising his voice.

  Keller turned to him with an incredulous expression. “Absolutely not.”

  “I was a Marine. Tracking and survival in hostile environments is my specialty.”

  “We have plenty of other qualified personnel.” Keller nodded to the woman with the sergeant’s stripes, and Andrew noticed that she carried an M4A1 carbine in addition to her holstered sidearm.

  Andrew shrugged. “Sure, but I don’t see stripes on anyone else’s sleeves. Who do you want to have at your side when some alien wolf comes sniffing around your tent at night? Some retired mall cop, or me?”

  He received a few glares from the others for that comment, but the sergeant cracked a smile.

  Keller chewed his bearded lower lip for a moment, and then gave in with a nod. “Fine. Go get your pack and tent. We’re marching out in ten.”

  “Copy that,” Andrew replied as he spun around to go fetch his pack and tell Val and Kendra where he was going.

  * * *

  “You’re going where?” Val asked, her eyes huge. “No,” she added, shaking her head. “You can’t leave me alone.”

  “Yeah, uh, Mr. Miller...” Tony motioned to the grassy hill to the lake and the dark trees beyond. “You don’t know what could be out there.”

  Andrew smiled. “That’s exactly why I have to go. I don’t trust Keller to share his findings with us, and we have a right to know what kind of dangers we might have to face on Eden. Kendra will watch out for you while I’m gone.” He looked to her, and she nodded slowly. “I’ll be back before you even remember to miss me,” he added with a wink in Val’s direction. Before she could object any further, he took off at a jog, heading for the flattened patch of grass where he and the other colonists had left their survival packs. He’d marked his pack by tying on a bundle of crimson grass.

  Kendra caught up to him as he was shouldering the pack. “Are you sure about this, Andy?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “I’d go with you if it weren’t for my arm.” She tried hefting her injured shoulder, then winced and relaxed it into the sling once more.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You just promise me that you’ll keep an eye on Val. Tony, too. The last thing I need is a pregnant teenager to worry about.”

  Kendra laughed shortly at that, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “I won’t be longer than a day or two.”

  An awkward pause lingered between them as they stood staring into one another’s eyes. For a moment, he was tempted to kiss her, but then she turned away, nodding over his shoulder. “Looks like Keller’s leaving without you.”

  Andrew twisted around to see that she was right. “Damn it! See you in a couple of days, Ken-doll.”

  She seemed irritated at the nickname, and he grinned mischievously before sprinting after Eric and his posse of blue suits.

  He caught up to the woman with the sergeant’s stripes, and settled into a more comfortable pace. Andrew noticed that they now carried M4 carbines. Besides the stripes, she had an army name tape over the right breast of her jumpsuit that read “Harper.” Probably wears dog tags, too, he thought. He knew the type well—ex-military, and proud of it; he was that type himself.

  “Sergeant Harper, Lance Corporal Miller of the 24th MEU reporting. Permission to carry a weapon, sir?”

  The sergeant glanced his way with a wry smile. He took in her black hair, peach-fuzz short, her dark eyes and pale, weathered complexion, with plenty of lines, creases, and discolorations. She appeared well over thirty years old. She’d probably burned her youth away on long tours in the desert back home, just like him.

  “Private Taylor!” she bellowed, looking away from Andrew.

  “Sir?” a tall young man with dark skin and a shaved head replied.

  “Get this man an M4 and a sidearm.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Eric said, stopping and turning to glare at them from the front of the procession. “I didn’t authorize him to carry a weapon.”

  “You didn’t,” Sergeant Harper agreed. “But I did.”

  Keller’s face turned strawberry-red.

  “Respectfully, sir, unarmed men on this mission are about as useful as tits on a bull.”

  A few snickers followed that remark, and Keller’s expression darkened. “Very well, Sergeant. I suppose you would know.”

  Andrew noticed a tightening around Harper’s eyes, but she chose not to rise to the bait. It was comforting to see that he wasn’t the only one at odds with Keller. He studied the black wall of trees on the other side of the lake while they waited for Private Taylor to return with his weapons. It didn’t look like a lot of sunlight reached the forest floor. Even in broad daylight, they’d be stumbling through shadows. Not a good situation to be in if there were any predators skulking around in there.

  Private Taylor came stalking across the field with a rifle slung over each shoulder, and a second ammo belt and sidearm around his waist. He stopped in front of Andrew, barely winded from the run, and handed the items over.

  “Thanks,” Andrew replied.

  “Don’t mention it, sir,” Taylor replied.

  Andrew strapped on the belt, noticing as he did so that the sidearm was a standard army-issue M9. There were spare mags slotted into the belt for both the M4 and the M9. Andrew frowned at that. Back in his active-duty days, he was used to having spare mags tucked into pouches on the outside of his tactical vest, but here, he didn’t even have body armor.

  “Yeah, I know,” Harper said, seeing the expression on his face. “The kit could be better.”

  Andrew hefted his rifle with a shrug. “Could also be worse.”

  “Let’s move,” Keller interrupted. “We have a lot of ground to cover before dark.”

  Eric led the way down the grassy slope toward the lake, taking point despite his lack of combat training. Andrew thought about suggesting that he or Harper take the lead instead, but then thought better of it. Not worth another argument. If Keller wanted to get himself killed, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  They hit the pebbly shore of the lake, boots crunching in a steady rhythm. Andrew spotted Roland about twenty yards away, with a group of others. They were working with sections of thick white piping and setting up a modular structure by the water’s edge. Andrew waved, but the kid missed it.

  They followed the beach, drinking periodically from their canteens as they went, and every now and then stopping to fill them from larger water jugs that some of the blue suits carried. Those jugs proved to be equipped with filters that made it safe to re-fill them directly from the lake. After an hour and a half of walking, they finally reached the other side, and Keller called a break to relieve themselves and refill the water jugs.

  “From here on, we ration the water supply!” he added, his voice thundering out from the voice amplifier he carried.

  A few grumbles answered that ultimatum, but no one objected in so many words. Ther
e was no indication if they’d find another fresh water source before they reached the lost section of Eden, so they had to be careful.

  Andrew took a minute to relieve himself as well, and stood staring up at a towering wall of spiky black- and purple-leafed trees. Unlike trees on Earth, these had perfectly straight branches that radiated from glossy black trunks like spikes. The ‘leaves’ were all black and dark purple, and looked almost like balls of cotton. Strange as hell, he thought; another reminder that this wasn’t Earth. The forest floor was as dark and forbidding as it had looked from the other side of the lake.

  Andrew was just zipping up when a voice interrupted him.

  “What do you think?” It was Harper. He caught himself in the zipper and cursed under his breath before turning to her.

  She nodded to the trees. “It’s as dark as the backside of the moon in there.”

  Andrew smiled. “You have flashlights?”

  “We’ve got one better than that. Check your belt.”

  Andrew glanced down, and spotted a tactical light crowded in between the spare mags. He pulled it out and clipped it onto the barrel of his rifle.

  “Break’s over!” Keller bellowed through his amplifier. “Let’s move!”

  Andrew turned to glare at the other man. “He’s quite the drill sergeant with that thing.”

  “At least he’s scaring off the wildlife,” Harper replied.

  “Or telling them where to find us.”

  Harper snorted and scratched her head. “Let’s hope not.”

  They all formed up on Keller, and followed him up the slope from the lake to the tree line. A crack of thunder and a sudden gust of wind drew their gazes up to a dark wall of clouds cresting over the treetops. Andrew felt the first drops of rain speckle his face and cool his cheeks.

  They reached the tree line, and tactical lights flicked on one after another as they plowed into the shadows. The bright white beams of their lights crisscrossed the shady floor, revealing a cottony layer of fallen ‘leaves,’ their blue and purple colors faded to dowdy blacks and browns. They sank into that detritus up to their ankles, sometimes all the way to their knees, and their footsteps kicked up loamy-smelling clouds of the rotting vegetation. The entire forest smelled of dank, rotting things, mixed with the sweeter smells of alien tree saps and pollens.

  Muted thunder rolled overhead, but no more raindrops. For the moment, they were being filtered out by the dense interlocking canopy of spear-like tree branches and their feathery leaves. Glancing up, Andrew couldn’t see more than a few dozen specks of light shining through, like stars at twilight. Then a particularly loud crack of thunder sounded, and something changed. “Hold up!” Sergeant Harper called.

  Everyone stopped at her command, and Keller turned with obvious annoyance to look at them. “What?” he demanded.

  “Listen,” Harper replied.

  The trees were creaking and groaning around them, swaying in a powerful wind. A loud roaring began, and then a pale light broke through overhead. A dark, tortured sky appeared past the jutting branches as the trees were reduced to naked, rain-slicked black spears. Feathery leaves came crashing down on them like clumps of ash. Andrew caught a clump in his mouth and gagged as the wet, grainy texture of it dissolved on his tongue. It was bitter, sour, and sweet all at the same time. He spat it out and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

  Rain began to fall, soaking them all in seconds.

  “Get your raincoats out!” Keller said, already shrugging out of his pack to grab his.

  Andrew didn’t bother. What was the point if he was already soaked to the bone? Instead he ran over to Keller and shouted to be heard above the storm. “We have to find shelter!” he said.

  “Where?” Keller shouted back. “We’re already in the forest!”

  Andrew cast about quickly, seeing nothing that could protect them from the rain. “Then we should pitch our tents and wait it out!” Wind howled through the trees, making them groan. He was already starting to shiver from the cold. “We could get sick or worse—hypothermic—in this weather!”

  Keller perked up with a sneer as he hurriedly pulled on his raincoat. “What’s the matter, GI Joe? Getting soft on me? I thought you were the hard-ass Marine!”

  Andrew scowled, his hands balling into fists. He’d had just about as much of Keller’s attitude as he could take.

  Sergeant Harper pulled him away, stepping between them. She was wearing her raincoat, too.

  Keller nodded to her. “We press on!” He turned and started slogging through the soggy mush at their feet. “Move out!” he added, waving over his shoulder to the others.

  “Don’t let him get under your skin,” Harper said. “If assholes had assholes, we’d call them Kellers.”

  Andrew chuckled at that and dropped to his haunches to grab the raincoat out of his bag. Maybe it would lock his body heat in and make his soggy jumpsuit act like a wetsuit instead. He could only hope.

  They trudged on, with the rain running in torrents down the jagged, spiny branches of the trees. It was beginning to pool at their feet, soaking through the fallen leaves to form a heavy, sucking paste that drenched Andrew’s boots. It was slow going, and exhausting. Add to that the shivering cold and the weight of all their gear.

  A thick white mist creeped up from the soggy ground, tendrils clawing up the sides of the trees and swirling around their waists. It rose swiftly higher, until they were gagging on the sappy, acrid stench of it. Visibility dropped to just a few feet, even with their tac lights on. Andrew coughed on the fumes and blinked tears from his eyes.

  “This could be toxic!” he called to Sergeant Harper. “We need to get out of here!”

  “Second that, Corporal!” she replied, spluttering into her sleeve. “Keller! We’re pulling out!”

  Andrew spotted a dark, hulking shadow go darting by to his left. It stirred the mist violently. He tracked it with his carbine, blinking hard as he sighted down the barrel through blurred vision. The shadow stopped and slowly turned. It had at least four arms, and two massive trunks for legs, like some kind of spider rearing up.

  “Sergeant, are you seeing this?” he whispered. His voice was calm, but his heart was slamming hard in his chest. He flicked off the safety and eased his finger onto the trigger of his rifle.

  Then one of his party let out a terrified scream, and bullets rattled out. More human cries echoed from the thickening mist, and Andrew whirled around, searching for threats. Something zipped past his ear, and he dropped to the ground. “Check fire! Check fire!” he screamed.

  But no one was listening. The mist roared with gunfire. The bright orange flares of muzzle flashes came leaping out of the gloom. Unintelligible screams echoed around him, and all the while, that hulking shadow advanced single-mindedly on him, oblivious to the gunfire. Why was no one shooting at it?!

  The shadow multiplied, with four more stepping out from behind it. They’d been walking single-file to hide their numbers. Andrew watched as all five of them crouched in unison and leapt high into the air.

  “Shiiiit!” He flicked over to full auto and snapped his rifle up, holding the trigger and spraying the shadows with bullets as they swooped down on him.

  EIGHTEEN

  Kendra

  The storm hit their camp faster than Kendra thought possible. Her first order of business was to locate Valeria, because she’d sworn to protect the girl. If anything happened to her on Kendra’s watch, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

  The clouds were black; forks of familiar lightning stretched throughout the sky as fat drops of rain fell, slowly at first, but increasing with the incoming gusts of wind. Where was the girl? Kendra walked past a group of people huddling inside the mess hall. The wind pressed against the entrance, threatening to pull the massive tent free of the ground, the canopy top acting like a parachute. It held as she moved away from it, seeking Val. The rain came harder now, and Kendra used a hand as a visor, hoping to keep her eyes free of the deluge. It didn’t work
.

  People were yelling at the edge of camp, toward the space where the ground went from a flat plane of grass to a thick copse of bush that led in the direction of the lake. Kendra wished Roland was with her, but he’d gone to the lake to start setting up the treatment facility.

  The shouting grew louder, and it wasn’t the startled cries of someone being soaked by rain. It was fear; panic. Kendra’s ears perked up as the distant sound of gunfire commenced. It echoed across the landscape, miles and miles away, but distinct to her trained ear. Someone was under attack, and it was coming from the direction Andrew and Keller had gone.

  “Valeria! Val! Tony!” Kendra called out, cupping her hands to project her voice. It was difficult to see, water dripping from her forehead into her eyes; she wiped them on her sleeve and continued walking.

  She bumped into someone who was scrambling away from Eden Three, which intersected the edge of camp.

  “What’s happening?” Kendra grabbed the woman by the shoulders. It was Veronica, and her eyes were wide, her face pale.

  “The mist. There’s monsters in the mist,” she said, shoving free of Kendra’s grip. Her injured shoulder barked at the sudden jarring.

  Monsters? Kendra felt for her Glock, and remembered she was no longer carrying a gun.

  “Val!” she shouted as she headed for the group of panicking people. A dense mist rose from the grass, and Kendra saw her sister inside the fog. Not Carrie now, but the version she recalled as a teenager: the young woman with longer hair, who’d gone missing, tearing her family apart.

  Kendra slowly walked toward the haze, her good arm outstretched. “Carrie,” she said softly. The image morphed as something on four legs pressed through, sharp teeth flashing.

  * * *

  Andrew

  The shadowy spiders flying toward Andrew vanished into fading swirls of mist before reaching him. Blinking blurry eyes, he twisted around to make sure that the monsters hadn’t simply run past him to attack from behind, but there was no sign of them. What he did see were human silhouettes spinning and flailing in the mist, rifles rattling and muzzles flashing as bullets tore in all directions, shooting at targets that he couldn’t see. Several people were on the ground like him, but hopefully not because they’d been hit.