There was nowhere to run.
He closed his eyes and turned back to the ocean. The waves crashed against the shoreline. A brief moment of clarity washed over him. He felt completely alone. Just him and the endless expanse of the ocean.
Only it wasn’t as endless as it had once been. He moved his foot and saw the squishy carcass of an oarfish. Normally the giant fish lived in deep waters, which meant the ocean had receded even farther than he had thought.
He turned to see that the Spiders had nearly reached him. He closed his eyes again. Sucked in a breath. Did he really want to keep running? Did he want to try and escape again? Or was it time to accept his fate and let them take him?
A half a second was all it took. The Spiders finally caught up to him and pulled him to the ground. He felt their cold pincers pushing into his chest, almost rhythmically. Saw their beady eyes boring into his. He opened his mouth to scream . . . but instead coughed up a mouthful of water.
“He’s going to be okay!” a voice cheered above him.
The Spiders’ claws were still pushing on his chest, and he waved his arm to force them away.
“Give him some space,” someone ordered in a rough voice.
Alex coughed up another stream of water and struggled to open his eyes. His fear faded as he realized that there had been no Spiders. Instead, a man in a white doctor’s coat was bent over him. Two more faces stood in the background.
The man with the rough voice stepped forward.
“You’re a hell of a long way from Edwards Air Force Base,” he said. “If it weren’t for that radio, we would never have found you.” The man looked down at him with hazel eyes. “You okay?” he asked, snapping his fingers in front of Alex’s face.
The man’s words repeated several times in his head before Alex understood what they meant. He looked down at the drenched radio, relieved to see the screen still glowing. He smiled and blinked the final bits of salt water out of his eyes. With unclouded vision, he saw the letters embroidered on their fleeces.
NTC.
His joy quickly turned to anger, and he scooted away from the men across the wet metal deck on his hands.
These men worked for the company that had hired him for the Biosphere mission—a mission that had almost gotten him killed. They were no better than the Organics hunting him on the beach.
Closing his eyes, he fell back against the cold surface of the submarine bulkhead and laughed bitterly. Just when he thought he was safe—just when he thought the word might still have meaning after all.
* * *
Sergeant Overton cursed. If it weren’t for the gathering Spiders, he would have rescued Jeff and his men and maybe even had time to find another pack of cigarettes. Now the survivors had scattered across the field in all directions.
He kicked the corpse of one of the aliens and then raised his .45 into the air. It would draw the other Organics’ attention, but he had no choice. He fired off two rounds.
The red heat signatures of several freed prisoners halted at the west end of the lakebed. They turned in his direction.
“Come on,” Overton muttered.
Over his shoulder, he saw Bouma slip behind the cover of a tree, his rifle aimed toward the survivors, just in case.
The sergeant watched as the group began running toward him. Was it Kiel? Thompson? He counted three figures, two larger ones and that of a child. Had Jeff somehow linked up with the marines? If he had, then he was even smarter than Overton had given him credit for.
When the first survivor stepped into full view, Overton almost dropped to his knees. He recognized the man’s bulb nose and short frame instantly. He quickly removed his filthy helmet so the younger marine would recognize him.
“Private Kiel!” Overton shouted, disguising his emotion with formality.
“Holy shit. What the hell are you doing here? And why are you wearing an NTC uniform?” Kiel asked, moving closer. The other two figures emerged from the darkness.
“Thompson, is that you?” Overton asked, recognizing the man’s wide shoulders.
The burly man nodded and shuffled to the side to reveal another figure. Blinking, Overton focused on the face. Overton couldn’t believe his eyes. Jeff’s small chiseled chin tilted up toward him. He’d never been so happy to see a kid in his life.
“You came to rescue us?” Jeff asked.
Overton glanced down, overwhelmed. “Semper fi, or ‘Always faithful’ is the marines’ motto for a reason.”
Even in the dim light, Overton could see a smile sneak across the boy’s face. It was just a hint of one, but it was there. He scanned the boy quickly for injuries. The kid looked tired and dirty but otherwise unharmed. Overton reached out as if he wanted to hug the boy, but instead he patted Jeff on the back.
Rising to his feet, the sergeant looked from Jeff to his other men. “How the hell did you guys link up?”
Jeff shook his head. “No time to talk. We need to get out of here.”
Overton almost laughed. The kid had balls, barking orders at him. He was really starting to like Jeff.
“He’s right. Let’s move,” Bouma said.
“Wait,” Overton replied, suddenly serious again. “Did anyone else from the squad make it out alive?”
“No,” Kiel said. “We’re it. There are other survivors from the farm, but I think they ran when they heard the gunfire,” he said, spinning to point at the field behind them.
Overton nodded and then stepped toward the road. “All right,” he said. “Well then, in order to stay alive we need to get to the Humvee.”
Thompson smiled. “That sounds fucking awesome to me.”
“How’s the RVAMP doing?” Overton asked.
Emanuel swung the device from his back to his chest and checked the power meter. He made a thumbs-up a second later, but Overton wasn’t sure if he could trust him.
Taking in a measured breath, Overton decided he had no other choice.
Bouma scouted up ahead while the rest of them hid behind the bed of a pickup truck.
A few seconds later a burst of static sounded over the radio. “All clear,” Bouma said.
Overton didn’t respond; he simply slipped into the shadows and with a nod motioned for the others to follow him.
They headed toward a cul-de-sac lined with cookie-cutter houses. In the darkness, they looked normal enough—little white fences lining their yards, brick chimneys, and solar panels. But as he got closer, he could see the mark of the Organics.
The street reeked of death. Rotting sacks of skin sat in front of orbs that had all but dissolved. The fresh corpses of Spiders littered the street, some of them still twitching. Overton’s stomach lurched.
A shriek somewhere in the distance snapped him back to reality. He slipped behind the safety of an empty vehicle. He could see the dark outline of Bouma’s helmet peeking out from behind a tree a hundred yards or so in front of him. Once the sound faded away, Overton cautiously pulled himself up and sprinted toward Bouma’s position, patting the marine on his helmet to inform him of his presence.
Then he was moving. Slow and cautious, one foot in front of the other. Toe to heel, just like he’d been trained to do so many years ago. It took him three seconds to get to the adjacent house. Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, Overton tightly gripped the trigger of his pulse rifle and peered around the side.
Nothing moved.
The road beyond was clear of contacts, only corpses and deflated orbs. He exhaled and flashed an advance signal to the others. The sound of their footfalls rang out through the night and moments later they were rounding the next corner. As they made their escape Overton realized that finding his men wasn’t just luck. It was fate. The world needed him—the world needed marines.
CHAPTER 15
SOPHIE lay awake in her empty room and scanned the ceiling panels. She tra
ced their outlines as her thoughts drifted uncontrollably. Her legs thrashed as she tried to find a comfortable position, but it was no use. Her mind and body were restless.
Sitting up, Sophie moaned. Her mind betrayed her when she was awake and when she was asleep. There was no escaping it. She felt trapped in her own head, and to make things even worse, she was starting to feel like a prisoner in the Biosphere. Ever since Emanuel, Overton, and Bouma had left, she’d felt like her room was a jail cell.
Fumbling, Sophie reached for the light switch. A bright glow instantly warmed the room. But it did not diminish the feeling of darkness she felt creeping into her thoughts. The panic of not knowing what Emanuel and the others were facing outside the walls—the fear that uncertainty brought with it.
“They’ll be back soon,” said a voice in the hallway. She turned to see Holly standing in the open doorway, a mug of tea in her hand. She must have seen Sophie’s light turn on.
“What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Holly said, strolling across the floor and taking a seat next to Sophie.
“They should be back by now. They’ve been gone almost forty-eight hours,” Sophie replied.
“Overton likes to play things safe. He’s probably moving slowly to make sure everything goes smoothly. He’s a recon marine, not infantry. Bouma was very clear about the difference.” Holly smiled and looked over at her. “Don’t worry, they’re coming back. You should try and get some sleep.”
Sophie shook her head and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Standing, she stretched and let out a yawn. “I should try and work. It’s the only thing that gets my mind off what’s happening out there.”
“Sophie, you can’t keep going on like this,” Holly complained, holding up a hand to stop her.
Sliding past her reach, Sophie smiled. “I’m fine. Really. Besides, there’s something I want to check in the mainframe. It’s not like I’m going to get any sleep, anyway.”
Before Holly could protest further, Sophie slipped into the hallway. She felt bad leaving her there. She knew Holly was only trying to help. But there wasn’t anything the psychologist could do for her. Not anymore.
The cool glow of blue LEDs greeted Sophie as she neared the CIC. She knew the light source was from the screens and not an alien presence, but the sight still gave her pause.
“Is there anything I can assist you with tonight, Doctor Winston?” Alexia asked as the glass doors slid open and Sophie walked into the room.
Sophie took a seat at one of the terminals.
“I know you have access to classified information,” Sophie began.
Alexia’s holographic image emerged over the console closest to Sophie. “What kind of information are you looking for, Doctor Winston?”
“Upload everything you have on Eve to the mainframe.”
Less than a second later, the monitor in front of Sophie glowed to life, and a stream of data began running across the screen. It was just a jumble of numbers and letters.
“This is all encrypted,” Sophie said. Rubbing her eyes, she reached for a mug of stale coffee that she’d left on the desk earlier. She grimaced at the bitter taste, but she kept sipping it as the data on the screen slowly became legible.
Unidentified drone found submerged. Structure of craft consists of unknown elements.
Sophie scanned the information. It was all stuff she already knew. Come on, give me something I can work with, she thought.
Preliminary scans show that the ship has an advanced defense mechanism. Without the protection of the shield, the outside of the craft begins to break down and corrode. We are keeping it frozen to slow down the process.
Initial tests indicate the craft, which we have named Eve, is just a drone. We haven’t yet been able to determine what is controlling the ship, if anything . . .
Preliminary scanning of the damage shows the ship is largely intact, but the crash rendered the device inoperable. Our initial hypothesis is that the craft was destroyed after being submerged in the water.
There wasn’t anything here that she didn’t already know. There had to be more.
Shaking her head, she got up and stretched. It was after midnight, but if the previous two nights were any indication, she wouldn’t be getting any rest anyway.
“Doctor Winston, you look very fatigued.”
Sophie held her stretch before glancing at Alexia’s hologram. “I’ll be fine. Download everything regarding Eve to my private terminal. And start the automatic coffee dispenser; I’m going to be up for a while.”
Alexia’s image faded and the room grew dim. Reaching for her mug, Sophie slugged down the last of the coffee. With a scowl she put the cup down, rubbed her eyes, and returned her attention to the screen. The facts and figures calmed her like nothing else, and she lost herself in her work.
August 1st, 2056: Biopsies of the bonelike structure inside Eve are being sent to the New Tech Biolab in Maryland. We hope to identify any new elements and organic materials.
After an hour of going over the data, Sophie found that it was getting more difficult to keep her eyes open. The caffeine had worn off.
“Your coffee is ready in the mess hall,” Alexia said.
With a sigh, Sophie slid out of her chair. Just as she was about to leave, a familiar name on the screen caught her eye.
August 15th, 2056: Eve is being transferred to the New Tech Corporation headquarters in Los Angeles, California. Request comes from the top. Dr. Hoffman has ordered all tests performed at this lab be classified. The results of the biopsies will be sent directly to LA. This will be my last entry.
—Dr. Tsui
Sophie gasped. Why had Dr. Tsui, the leader of the solar weather team in Houston during the solar storms of 2055, been tasked with studying Eve? He was an astronomer, not a biologist. And even more important, why did Dr. Hoffman have the information classified and sent to LA?
Completely forgetting about the waiting coffee, she rolled her chair over to another set of monitors.
“Alexia, do you have schematics for Eve?”
There was a single second of hesitation before Alexia’s hologram reemerged on the console next to Sophie. “I’m sorry, Doctor Winston, but that information is not available in my database.”
Sophie paused. There were dozens of thoughts running through her mind, and with her fatigue, it was difficult to make sense of anything. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before returning to the screen to reread the data.
Request comes from the top. Dr. Hoffman has ordered all tests performed at this lab be classified . . .
Another blink. Longer this time, her eyelids heavier.
Initial tests indicate the craft . . . is just a drone. We haven’t yet been able to determine what is controlling the ship, if anything . . .
The words began blending together, and she slowly closed her eyes. Crossing her arms on the desk, she bent down and rested her chin on them. Only for a minute, she thought, letting the darkness wash over her.
Thirty seconds later, she was asleep.
* * *
An explosion of blue light consumed Sophie. It was so powerful, so intense, that it even blocked out the sun.
Squinting, she took a step forward, her boot crushing something beneath it. She looked down to see bones. Not just any bones, but human bones. And they were small. It only took a moment to realize she was looking at a child’s remains.
She bent down to examine them. There was something lying next to it—something she recognized. A piece of cloth. A blanket.
David’s blanket.
Sophie crashed to her knees, a cloud of dust detonating under her. Scooping up the blanket, she pulled it to her chest. “David, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, tears flowing freely from her eyes.
Soon the filthy blanket was wet with tears. She tried to look away from the
bones but couldn’t. One of the loose ribs blew away in a sudden gust of wind.
Clutching the blanket against her chest, she screamed. Something began to build inside her—a feeling that she had suppressed for so long. It had almost destroyed her after the solar storms of 2055.
She’d had enough of the death, enough of the loss.
All she felt was anger.
Wiping away the tears, she wrapped up David’s remains in the blanket and set them softly on the dusty ground. Then she began walking toward the source of the light. She had no doubt what she would find at the other end of the blue beam. The Organics had killed David and would soon kill her.
With her hand steady over her eyes, she could finally make out the source of the light. It was a craft hovering silently over the barren earth.
Her walk turned into a jog and then into a run as the ship came into focus. The sides were black and sleek, almost wet-looking, like a killer whale.
As she got closer, a wind gust stung her bare arms with sand and debris. While she tried to regain her balance, the blue light popped off like a lightbulb blowing a circuit. With the glare from the light gone, she saw the ship in its entirety.
The craft was massive, larger than any she had ever seen. And it was just hovering there. The engineering was unusual, and felt alien—no windows, no wings, and nothing that would indicate it could fly. For a second she felt completely exposed. She remembered the night she’d spent with Emanuel during the solar storms, entwined with his body, imagining it was the last night of their lives. She wished he were there with her now. What would he want her to do? Run?
No, he would tell her to examine the ship, to study it. They were scientists, after all. They had traded their families and futures for a life dedicated to science. Discovery was everything to them.
With a sudden burst of energy, she ran up the hill, loose rocks kicking up behind her. As she climbed, she began to grasp how large the ship really was. She was an ant compared to the monstrosity. And even though there was no signal the craft had spotted her, she felt the overwhelming sense of being watched. The sensation did not deter her. She had to know what was inside, and where it came from.
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