Under Darkness (A Sci-Fi Thriller) (Scott Standalones Book 1)

by Jasper T. Scott

  Reed snorted. “We’re under quarantine anyway. Besides, no one is showing any symptoms.”

  “Their behavior was weird,” the second ensign said. “That could be a symptom—loss of inhibitions.”

  Reed considered it. “They were drunk. Kissing us was probably part of some bet—or maybe just end of the world madness rearing its head.”

  “She whispered aloha to me,” the second ensign said. “Was she saying hello or goodbye?”

  “Does it matter, Ensign? You want to call her back and ask for her number?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then let’s get back to the Royal.”

  Chapter 31

  Beth awoke to a loud knock on her door. She sat up in a rush, the covers falling away. A cold sweat instantly prickled her skin.

  “Beth, breakfast is ready!” her dad announced, his voice muffled by the door.

  Relief coursed through her at the familiar sound of his voice: it wasn’t an alien, just her dad. Right on the heels of that relief came a crushing weight of grief. Toby’s dead, staring blue eyes flashed through her mind, and she fought back a fresh wave of tears.

  Knock, knock, knock! “Beth?”

  “I’m coming,” she said in a hoarse voice. Stumbling out of bed in her pajamas, she opened the door to find her dad fully dressed.

  He flashed a smile. “Hey there, Bethy,” he said. “Food’s downstairs in the restaurant. Everyone else is already eating.” With that, he spun away and strode off down the hall.

  Beth watched him go with a wrinkled brow. He passed out of sight, and a moment later she heard the front door open, then click shut. He was unusually upbeat first thing in the morning. Beth’s thoughts flashed back to what her dad had said to her while sleepwalking last night—Beth! Help me! They won’t let me go—and worry crept in at the edges of her thoughts. Maybe there was a reason he wasn’t acting like himself.

  Beth took a few minutes to get dressed before following him downs. She passed one of the Marines at the bottom of the stairs—Private Kelly. She recognized him by his young, freckled face and green eyes. He couldn’t have been much older than Toby.

  Beth winced at the comparison and pushed those thoughts from her head. The orange-gold rays of the morning sun streamed through the front doors, landing on the shiny brown tiles marbled with white veins. Her footsteps faltered, and she glanced the other way, out at the courtyard to the ocean beyond. The bloody pink water of the pool lay cloaked in shadows. Only the tops of the palm trees were illuminated and gleaming in the sun. Above that, the clouds were golden, not white. Maybe five or six in the morning, Beth guessed. Breakfast wasn’t usually served until eight.

  Crossing the lobby, she entered the restaurant and stopped. Almost everyone was already there. Commander Wilde and Chief Miller were there, along with Corporal Gibson, though it wasn’t surprising that sailors and Marines would be up this early. As for the tourists... Beth stood in the entrance, taking a silent roll call of the early risers. James, the linebacker-sized lawyer, sat with his family; Allen the balding accountant sat alone; The two widows, Melanie and Avery, sat together. Chef Jones sat by herself; the two housekeepers, Hanna and Akela, occupied another table with one of the Marines... Decker. Private Dekker, Beth recalled. And then there was Don, sitting alone in the farthest possible corner of the restaurant, his eyes scanning the room over a mug of coffee.

  The kitchen door burst open, and her dad came out carrying a full tray of food.

  Beth strode over to him just as he was setting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Chef Jones.

  “Sleep well?” her dad asked.

  “No,” Beth said, watching her dad pass a glass of water to the chef. Was the plumbing working again? She shook her head and regarded her dad with a scowl. “Is this a joke?”

  “What do you mean?” her dad replied. He eyed her for a second, then appeared to have an epiphany. “Oh, right. You must be starving! Hang on, I’ll get you a plate.”

  “No,” Beth replied. “That’s not what I meant. What time is it?”

  “Six in the morning,” Chef Jones replied around a mouthful of eggs.

  Beth glanced around, gesturing to the others in the restaurant. “So who made all of this?”

  “We did,” her dad replied.

  “We...”

  “Chef Jones, Hanna, Private Dekker, and me.”

  “Okay... but why so early?”

  Don walked up to them with a plate of eggs balanced in one hand and a fork in the other. “They couldn’t sleep,” he explained for them.

  Her dad nodded agreeably, as did Jenna, their heads bobbing in unison. “The eggs were going to go bad. So I figured, why not cook them? Waste not want not.”

  Beth frowned. “Just eggs? Nothing else?”

  “There’s bread and butter, but the toasters don’t work. You want some or not?”

  “I guess...” Beth said.

  “Good. I’ll be right back.” Bill wheeled away, heading back to the kitchen with an empty tray.

  Don grabbed Beth’s arm and began tugging her toward his table. “Let’s sit,” he said.

  Beth let him guide her without complaint and sat beside him at his corner table. “Notice anything strange?” he asked in a low voice.

  “You mean besides the fact that everyone who should be sleeping in is down here stuffing their faces with plain scrambled eggs like they haven’t seen food in weeks?”

  “Besides that,” Don agreed. “Look closely. Tell me what you see.”

  Beth did, scanning the people in the restaurant. They were all eating with more gusto than they should have been considering the time, and how bland their breakfast was. But there was something else, too. Something that niggled like a grain of sand in her eye.

  As she watched, a silent rhythm emerged: forks dipped to plates, up to mouths, repeat. Coffee mugs to lips, back to table. Forks dipped to plates...

  “Wait, what?” Beth blinked furiously and shook her head. Maybe it was her imagination.

  But it wasn’t. People were eating and drinking in perfect synchrony, as if their movements had been choreographed. Simultaneous actions were staggered between the tables, but still noticeable. James, Avery, Allen, and Melanie all raised their forks to their mouths at the same instant, popped food in their mouths, and then lowered their forks again. They raised their glasses for a drink, drank for two beats, and then lowered their glasses. They weren’t the only ones, either: Hanna, Private Dekker, and Chef Jones were all in sync as well.

  Just then, her dad emerged from the kitchen with another plate. Jenna’s hand came up to scratch her cheek. In the same instant, so did her dad’s, Hanna’s, and Private Dekker’s.

  Beth’s eyes widened. “Why four?”

  “So you do see it,” Don replied. “I thought I was losing my mind.”

  Chapter 32

  “Here you go,” Bill said, setting a plate of eggs and a glass of water in front of Beth. “It’s not fancy, but it will keep you going until our rations arrive.”

  Beth nodded, watching him with wide eyes. He didn’t seem to notice her suspicion. Turning back the way he came, he headed to the kitchen. Beth eyed her eggs warily before looking to Don. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, it’s not everything, obviously. They’re not all moving in lockstep. It’s more like a tell. A trace of some kind. It’s like they’re... I don’t know, telegraphing neural signals to each other.”

  “Telepathy?” Beth asked.

  “Something like that, yeah.”

  “So are they infected with something? Are they dangerous? My dad was walking around again last night. He came knocking on my door asking for help. He said they won’t let him go. Then he woke up and couldn’t remember any of it.”

  The permanent furrows on Don’s brow multiplied. “That’s some creepy shit.”

  “You’re telling me,” Beth replied, whispering urgently. “Do you think maybe those aliens are controlling them somehow?”

  Don placed a finger
to his lips and shook his head. “Eat up. We can talk after. Somewhere less busy.”

  Beth got the hint. She shoveled eggs from her plate and washed them down with the glass of water. “Done,” she said all of a few minutes later.

  They walked outside together, following the covered eaves around the resort, taking a wide berth around the bloody pool. “So?” Beth asked. “What do you think? Alien mind control?”

  Don glanced around, checking to see that no one else was around; then shook his head. “I don’t see how. Even if it were that, only two Crawlers attacked us that night, and of those two, only one survived. It definitely didn’t infect everyone here by itself.”

  “Maybe the aliens don’t have to be alive for it to work,” Beth said.

  “Intelligent, telecommunicating alien parasites?” Don said. “The CDC would have found something like that by now.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. The doctor I spoke with got me to volunteer for some extra tests. She said they haven’t had anyone else volunteer yet.”

  “What kind of tests?”

  “A CT scan and a spinal tap.”

  Don stopped walking and turned to her. He glanced back the way they’d come, then back at her, his blue eyes sharp with sudden interest. “Really?” he scratched his chin through his shaggy blond beard.

  “Yeah,” Beth replied. “Why, is that important?”

  “It could be. Why are they waiting for volunteers?”

  Beth shrugged. “Because no one is showing any symptoms of anything yet. They’re trying to preserve people’s freedoms.”

  Don snorted. “Jeez Louise. We’re at ground zero for an alien biothreat, and they’re tip-toeing around? I wonder what brainless bureaucrat gave those orders?”

  Beth smiled in spite of the gravity of the moment and arched an eyebrow at him. “Jeez Louise?”

  “I’m tryin’ to spare your ears, kid. We need to get the CDC back here ASAP. Is there any way you can contact them?”

  “The cell network is down,” Beth replied. “But Ashley said she’d come by to check on me today. Something about a possible headache from the spinal tap.”

  Don blew out a breath. “Then we lucked out. Soon as she gets here, you need tell her about this.”

  Beth nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  Don glanced behind them again. “In the meantime, keep your head down. We don’t want to tip anyone off. In fact, we’d better not be seen together. They might know who is and isn’t one of them.”

  Beth frowned, feeling suddenly silly for buying into Don’s paranoia. “Maybe we’re overreacting. I mean, we didn’t see much. Besides, we’ve been spending all this time together. If they’re infected with something, wouldn’t we be, too?”

  “Not if we’re immune,” Don replied. “Think about it. Why did they kill some people and choose to swap saliva with the others?”

  “Uck!”

  “Follow my thinking for a sec, kid. Maybe they can tell who the viable hosts are just by smelling them.”

  “So my dad’s viable and I’m not?” Beth asked. “How’s that make any sense? We’re related.”

  “Not 100% related. And anyway who the hell knows? It’s just a theory, but there must be some reason behind it. That night wasn’t just a random slaughter. It was a mission, and I bet they accomplished it. Their mothership never would have left otherwise.”

  “What mission?”

  “Maybe to colonize us,” Don said.

  Beth shuddered. “And then?”

  “We’d better hope there is no and then.”

  Chapter 33

  Beth sat in the lobby with her back to the windows, playing with her phone and listening to previously-downloaded music from Spotify with one half of her earbuds. That left her other ear free to listen for approaching threats. Every now and then she glanced up, checking visually, too, but so far no one had thought to bother her.

  Beth’s eyes dipped to her phone. It was 10:30 now. She’d watched almost everyone leave the resort, walking out the front doors, headed for parts unknown. Her dad had stayed, but only because Commander Wilde had convinced him to, saying that their rations would be arriving soon, and they needed his help to put them under lock and key in one of the resort’s storage rooms.

  Beth’s knee bounced anxiously. She felt the beginnings of a dull headache thumping behind her eyes—or maybe that was just her racing heart. Where was Ashley? She said she was coming to check on Beth today. Hopefully the doctor arrived before the rations did and her dad took off.

  Long minutes passed, and Beth’s playlist started over from the beginning. She barely heard the squeal of brakes over Thunder, a hit song from Imagine Dragons. Looking up, she saw the rusty white van from the CDC parked in front of the resort. Corporal Gibson cracked the sliding doors open just as someone jumped out of the driver’s seat in a hazmat suit. A black Marine who might have been the one from last night walked around the front of the van, sporting a millimeters-short crew cut rather than a helmet with night vision goggles.

  Corporal Gibson spoke briefly with them at the entrance before opening the doors wider to let them in.

  Beth pulled her earbud out and stood up. She heard footsteps approaching and saw her dad walking in from outside. He’d been draining the pool while Hanna and Akela mopped and scrubbed the bloody surround.

  “Hello there,” her dad said. “Here to take more samples?”

  The CDC worker shook her head, and Beth heard Ashley’s muffled voice issue from the suit. “No, I’m here to check on Beth Steele to make sure she’s—

  Beth ran to intercept them before Ashley could give anything away.

  “—not suffering any side effects from yesterday’s lumbar puncture,” Ashley finished.

  Beth’s dad turned to look at her just as she reached them. “Her what?” he asked. Looking back to Ashely he went on. “My daughter was subjected to additional testing? Why was she singled out?”

  Ashley appeared to hesitate. “You’re Mr. Steele?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You signed all the consent forms.”

  “What consent forms?”

  “I forged them,” Beth said. “Sorry, Ashley.”

  “You did what?” her dad thundered. “Sorry, Ashley? How about sorry, Dad?”

  Beth felt oddly reassured by the scolding. It wasn’t out of character for her dad at all, making Don’s theory about alien parasites affecting people’s brains seem more like the product of a paranoid mind than an actual possibility.

  “I can’t believe this,” her dad went on, shaking his head. “You mentioned something about side effects from the tests?”

  Ashley’s head bobbed inside her suit. “Yes.” Eyes flicking to Beth, she asked. “Have you experienced any headaches?”

  Beth took a moment to check. “A little. It just started.”

  “How would you describe the pain? Mild, moderate, severe?”

  “Mild.”

  “That’s good. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, then.”

  As Ashley said that, Beth’s phone vibrated noisily and began chirping with updates. She pulled it out of her pocket to see a stream of social media updates and e-mails pouring into the status feed on her phone.

  Most of it was unimportant, but there were a lot of missed calls, and messages from her mom.

  Beth? It’s Mom. I just saw what’s happening on the news. Call me!

  Beth? Are you there? Please ANSWER.

  BETH!

  And then came fifty-three missed calls spread across her mom’s phone and her stepdad’s.

  “Looks like the cell network is back,” Ashley said.

  Beth nodded absently. “I have to call my mom.”

  “You’d better,” her dad said. “She’s probably going crazy right now.”

  “I’ll leave you two to get caught up,” Ashley put in, turning to leave.

  “Aloha,” Beth’s dad replied.

  Then Ashley hesitated as if a thought had just occurred to her. �
�Beth, in case that headache gets worse, or one of you develops new symptoms, you should save the number for the center on your phone.”

  Beth nodded. “Okay.”

  “Eight oh eight, two four four, zero six, zero six,” Ashley said.

  “Got it.”

  “I’ll write it down at the reception, too,” Beth’s dad added. “In case someone else needs to call.”

  “Good idea,” Ashley replied. “I’d better get going.”

  “Wait—” Beth said. “—what about my test results? Am I okay?”

  “You’re fine. In fact, as far as we can tell, everyone is fine.”

  “That’s good news,” Beth’s dad said. “Maybe the quarantine will be lifted soon.”

  “Hopefully,” Ashley agreed.

  A niggling suspicion returned, begging for Beth’s attention. “What if some people are infected, but like, maybe just in one place.”

  “Like where?”

  “Like the brain?”

  “That’s why we did the spinal tap,” Beth. “The blood-brain barrier isolates your blood from the fluid in your brain, and keeps pretty much everything out, but we can’t assume that will be true for alien cells. They could be small enough to sneak through. But so far, that looks like a non-starter. Your spinal fluid was normal, and you were one of the ones infected by the aliens.” Ashley shrugged. “If we couldn’t find any trace of an infection in your spinal fluid, it seems unlikely we’ll find it in anyone else’s.”

  Beth’s lies came bubbling back up and burned like acid in the back of her throat. “Yeah... about that...” she said in a small voice.

  Her dad’s hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed—hard. “It’s good to hear that there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Beth looked up at him. “But—”

  He regarded her with cold eyes. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your forgery, young lady.”

  Alarm bells went off in Beth’s head. Her dad knew that she hadn’t been directly exposed to the Crawlers the way he had. Maybe he was infected after all. It was almost like he was covering for her to avoid giving a sample of his own spinal fluid. Like he has something to hide.