The Orbs Omnibus

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  He scowled and felt the scars on his face stretch. Would he be earning a new one soon? He looked at his HUD to see only thirty seconds had passed since the drone had spotted them. Time was up. It was action time.

  “Emanuel, give Kiel and Thompson your weapons. When I tell you to activate the RVAMP, you do it. Immediately. Got it?” Overton barked.

  Emanuel nodded and handed his rifle and pistol to the two marines in the backseat just as blue light consumed the truck. The drone was hovering over them. Overton felt the engine die as the ship shot a beam of light at the vehicle, knocking out the electronics in one quick click.

  “What’s happening?” Jeff cried.

  “Stay here, kid,” Overton said as he tossed his spare electromagnetic pulse grenade at Bouma. “Kiel, Thompson—you concentrate your fire on the horde after the ’nade goes off. Bouma, I want you to keep your fire on that drone. Do not let the beam touch you!”

  The men nodded, and Overton grabbed his door handle. He felt the adrenaline pumping into his blood stream. This was what he lived for—this was what he was going to die doing.

  He hesitated, and then took off his helmet. The electromagnetic pulse grenade was going to knock out his HUD anyway.

  “Get it done!” Overton yelled, snapping the door open and jumping onto the blacktop. With one swift move he launched his last grenade at the Spiders and went down on one knee. He watched the device sail through the air and wedge underneath the tire of a minivan a couple hundred yards away.

  Bouma fired first. The rounds tore into the drone above, ricocheting off its sides, and knocking the craft off its axis. The slight change in movement was just what Thompson and Kiel needed to move into position. Overton grinned and licked the sweat off his upper lip. The grenade went off just as the first Spiders passed the minivan.

  A shockwave ripped through the aliens’ shields, knocking out the first dozen. But there were many more still standing. Hundreds. An endless army as far as Overton could see. And moving amongst the sea of blue was something large—something with a back full of spikes.

  Jamie’s soft words echoed in Overton’s mind. Those were the small monsters. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he’d rescued the little ankle-biter.

  “Holy shit,” Overton muttered. He squeezed off a few shots at the closest Spiders in an attempt to get a better look at the creature. As limbs exploded in all directions, he caught a glimpse of a pair of hooves, and a body covered in dark black scales.

  What the fuck? Overton thought. If this thing had armor, it was going to take more than a pulse grenade to bring it down.

  Before he could get a target on the beast, another pack of Spiders moved in to replace the ones he had already splattered across the highway. Over the crack of gunfire, Overton could hear the massive creature’s hooves cracking the cement beneath its weight. Small tremors followed the sound as the alien made its way closer. Not a sound he wanted to hear. He swallowed. Hard. This thing was like an alien tank.

  He moved into a better position, checking his six to make sure the drone hadn’t flanked them. When he turned back to the horde, the sharp edge of a massive beak smashed through a cluster of Spiders, and Overton saw the face of the monster for the first time. He lowered his weapon in awe and watched the creature swing its beak from side to side, sending Spiders tumbling across the highway.

  “Overton, what are you doing? Shoot that thing!” a voice shouted.

  But Overton couldn’t pull his gaze away from the beast. It had the body of an oversized rhino and the face of a bird, with a long black beak the length of his pulse rifle. And staring right at him were . . . he counted them one by one.

  Nine eyes.

  “Overton! Snap out of it! Shoot that thing,” Bouma yelled.

  The creature smashed through another group of Spiders, plastering the highway with blue goo. Overton couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of respect for the alien. It displayed a brute strength and domination over the Spiders.

  It wasn’t until Overton saw the orbs lining the creature’s underbelly that he finally snapped out of his trance. He shouldered his weapon and yelled, spit exploding from his mouth. “Emanuel, how long until that thing is charged?”

  A second of silence passed before the scientist replied.

  “A couple of minutes, max!”

  Overton looked back at the growing pile of body parts a few hundred yards away. Even if they were able to hold off the Spiders, this new alien was going to be on top of them soon. They didn’t have minutes—they had seconds, at best.

  Overton fired off the last of his magazine and tossed his rifle on the ground. Racing back to the truck, he opened the passenger door and grabbed the mobile RVAMP from Emanuel.

  “Show me how to work this thing.”

  “Push here,” the biologist said, pointing at a button.

  The marine didn’t reply; he simply grabbed the device and took off running toward the swarming aliens. Bouma had pushed the drone north, over the ridgeline, but out of the corner of his eye, Overton saw a third pack of Spiders. The creatures burst over the hill, some of them tumbling limb over limb and forming a wave of swimming blue flesh.

  They were about to flank Thompson, who was concentrating his fire on the aliens to the east. Before Overton could do more than shout a warning, they were on the big marine. Sharp claws ripped through his back and lifted his massive body into the air like he was a slab of meat. The pack swarmed, stabbing him repeatedly as he fired off rounds into the sky, the gunfire drowning out his screams. Bright red blood stained the cement, mixing with the river of blue goo.

  Kiel turned to see his friend take his last breaths. “No!” he yelled, turning to fire his pistol at the swarm. The rounds bounced off the Spiders’ shields, and they continued to surge forward.

  The sound of death filled the highway. Shrieks from the Spiders mixed with the snorting of the massive beast as it broke through the line of dead bodies. Legs, torsos, and claws exploded into the air.

  Bouma and Kiel dove for cover, but Overton advanced. He wasn’t sure what the range was on the device, but he wanted to be as close as possible. His heart pumped adrenaline through every vein in his body. He could almost taste it.

  When the beast was less than fifty yards away, Overton slid to his knees, bringing the device into his lap. He pushed the button and waited for the weapon to work. Nothing happened.

  He looked up. The monster was racing toward him, bucking Spiders in all directions.

  Overton hit the button again.

  Click.

  A shockwave ripped through the humid morning air. The beast approaching him let out an earsplitting shriek.

  Overton watched as the alien’s legs gave out underneath its massive frame. With a crash, the monster collapsed onto the concrete and glided across the highway. The creature’s head smashed into a car, sending the sedan rolling into a ditch.

  Overton stayed kneeling as the beast slid toward him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the alien to smash into him and crush him with its enormous weight.

  Seconds later, the highway was quiet. The Organics’ screams had dissipated. Cracking his right eye open, Overton looked up into the face of the new alien. Its beak opened and a slender blue tongue snaked out. With one last violent twitch, the creature released a cloud of rotten breath, peppering Overton’s face with chunks of blue spit.

  He wiped it out of his eyes just as a small hand shook his shoulder.

  “You did it,” Jeff said.

  Overton kept his focus on the monster’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the orbs that had split open when the beast fell, nor at the distorted human bodies spilling out of the broken spheres. Instead, he looked into the alien’s twitching eyes and spat in the dying creature’s face.

  “We need to go, Sergeant Overton,” Jeff said, shaking the marine’s shoulder more forcefully.

&n
bsp; “The Humvee is toast,” Bouma shouted.

  Wiping a slimy mixture of Organic blood and sweat off his forehead, Overton returned his focus to the situation at hand. Scanning the Humvee, Overton could see that Bouma was right. A thick plume of smoke rose from underneath the hood. Although the highway was littered with cars, they were all dead or wrecked.

  “Bouma, find one that you can get to work. One with a hydrogen fuel cell might be our best bet,” Overton ordered.

  While his men searched for a vehicle, Overton turned to watch the morning sun rising higher over the highway. The brilliant orange rays illuminated a puddle of red blood snaking out from under a pile of dead Spiders. A pair of boots were just visible beneath the gore, but Overton turned away. He couldn’t bear to look at Thompson’s remains. He’d seen too many of his men dead already.

  CHAPTER 19

  WHEN Sophie awoke, she found herself curled up next to David. She must have stumbled to his room after her nightmare.

  His body was a small, still lump under the covers, and in the dim light she couldn’t see if his chest was moving. She reached out hesitantly, the horror of her dream still fresh in her mind. When she found a steady pulse at his neck, Sophie had to stop herself from gathering him up in a hug. The boy needed his rest; he had been worried sick over Jeff’s kidnapping, and it would be best to let him sleep.

  Relieved, she rubbed her eyes and scanned the room. Holly was curled up in a very uncomfortable-looking position in a chair by the door. Jamie and Owen were wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully in the center of the room.

  Sophie swung her feet onto the cold floor and reached for her boots. Slowly she tiptoed past Holly and the kids, making her way quietly into the hallway. It was just after eight A.M., and the sun would be past rising outside. She wanted to believe that Emanuel and the others were coming back, but with every passing hour she knew their chances grew slimmer. Hope was slowly bleeding out of her.

  Not knowing where she was headed, she paced down the passages connecting the Biomes, the lights clicking on as she passed their sensors. When she got to the garden, she stopped and took in a deliberately long breath. Orange trees filled the room with an intoxicating smell, but she kept walking, her boots clicking against the metal surface.

  Pausing at the stairway, she took in the expansive field of mature cornstalks. She’d always been a city girl, but there was something romantic about farming. Sophie smiled, thinking of Emanuel’s enthusiasm for all things green and growing.

  Looking over the rows of crops, she realized how lucky she had been—not only to have survived the invasion, but also to have been picked for the Biosphere mission. Of course, it wasn’t all luck. She had worked hard to get where she was in her career, but they had hit the jackpot on invasion day, not only surviving but also finding a home in one of the safest places left on Earth. Her smile faded. Would it still be worth it if Emanuel wasn’t there to enjoy it with her?

  Jumping off the platform, she landed in the dirt and carefully trotted through the corn to the apple tree at the center of the Biome. One of its branches grazed her cheek as she approached. Sophie winced and ducked beneath it to stand beside the trunk. She gazed up at the flurry of green. The leaves were mostly still healthy, with only a few brown tips in sight.

  She let her back slide against the bark until her butt hit the dirt.

  “Ouch,” she said, realizing she’d sat on her radio. She pulled it from her belt and looked at the display. The same flat wavelength raced across the screen, but she decided to try it anyway.

  “This is Doctor Sophie Winston with the Cheyenne Mountain Biosphere. Does anyone read me? Um, over.” She frowned. Military lingo was something she’d never quite mastered. To be honest, she’d never seen the need before now. Overton was always going on about “contacts” and “watching their six,” and though she’d picked up quite a bit of the jargon, it was still an unfamiliar language.

  Sharp static broke over the single channel, and she watched the wavelength intently for any sign of movement.

  Nothing.

  Sophie sighed and clipped the radio to her belt.

  “Alexia, any news from the outside?” she said, knowing the AI would hear her.

  “Good morning, Doctor Winston. I’m sorry, but there is no news yet.”

  Sophie closed her eyes and pounded the back of her head several times against the bark.

  “Goddamn it,” she said, wincing and reaching back to cup her bruised skull. Waiting was the hardest part, especially when she knew that Emanuel was in grave danger. He was basically all she had left. She knew her family and everyone else on the outside was dead. Her friends, her colleagues. All dead. She couldn’t lose him, too.

  Somewhere in the distance, an alarm chirped. Sophie’s eyelids snapped open. “What is it, Alexia?”

  “One moment, scanning.”

  A moment of silence, and then Alexia’s calm voice said, “Contacts, Doctor Winston.”

  Pain pinched Sophie’s gut. Damned military lingo—contacts could mean anything from a horde of Organics to her returning team.

  “Can you be more specific?” Sophie yelled.

  “Camera 1 is picking up a vehicle traveling quickly up the frontage road.”

  Sophie raced through the cornstalks, pushing them out of her way without care. She emerged near the metal doors leading out of the Biosphere. With one leap, she jumped onto the platform and ran toward them.

  The faint sound of footsteps broke out over the stillness of the gardens. Sophie turned to see Holly standing in the passageway at the far side of Biome 1. By her side were Jamie and Owen.

  “We have company!” Sophie yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth so her voice would travel. “Take the kids to the medical ward and lock the door. Alexia can’t confirm whether they’re friendly or hostiles.”

  Holly caught Sophie’s gaze for a split second and mouthed what appeared to be “Good luck.”

  Sophie nodded and turned back to the entrance. She grabbed the pistol Overton had given her and aimed it at the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she clicked off the safety. There was little chance anyone would be able to get into the Biosphere, but if she had learned anything since the invasion, it was that nothing was impossible.

  * * *

  Overton slammed on the brakes of the minivan, nearly crashing it into the blast doors. Jumping onto the tarmac, he jammed his helmet back over his face. The visor immediately clouded with steam from the heat radiating off his forehead.

  “This is Sergeant Ash Overton, Alexia, do you read? Over,” Overton said into his mic.

  “Welcome home, Sergeant Overton,” said the AI. “Please prepare to enter the facility.”

  “Good to be back,” he said. He grabbed his empty rifle and made his way to the massive blast doors where Emanuel, Jeff, and Bouma were already waiting.

  “Where’s Kiel?” Overton asked.

  Bouma pointed silently back the way they’d come. Kiel stood staring at the rear of the minivan, where they’d stowed Thompson’s bloody remains.

  “Can someone help me?” Kiel asked.

  Overton scowled behind his visor, trying to hide his discomfort. He should have been the one asking that question, not Kiel. After all, Thompson’s death was on his hands.

  Overton swung his rifle over his back and jogged over to the vehicle.

  “He’s going to be heavy,” Kiel said gravely.

  Overton remembered the shoulder wound he had sustained a few weeks ago and said, “Bouma, get your ass over here. Jeff, Emanuel, you guys go on without us. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  The blast doors hissed from the hydraulics and the metal groaned open. Emanuel acknowledged Overton’s orders with a quick nod and then led Jeff into the cargo bay. The boy glanced over his shoulder one last time, thanking the sergeant with a smile.

  Overton grinned
and gave the kid a haphazard salute that made Jeff smile even wider. He stood and watched the two disappear, listening to the oddly comforting sound of creaking metal. The sound meant they were home, and it was a welcome reprieve from the alien shrieks that were still echoing in his mind.

  “Ready?” Bouma asked, grabbing Thompson’s legs.

  Overton nodded solemnly, the small comfort from the noise of human engineering quickly vanishing at the sight of the dead marine.

  “On the count of three,” he said. Taking in a measured breath, he scanned the marine’s massive frame. Bloodstains surrounded puncture wounds all over his uniform where the Spiders had stabbed him over and over. Noticing Thompson’s eyes were still open, Overton reached over and closed them before grabbing the man under his left arm.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  The men nodded, and Overton started counting.

  “One . . . two . . . three!”

  With a heave, the marines pulled Thompson’s body out of the minivan and carried him into the bay. They set him down softly on the concrete floor inside. Kiel grabbed a tarp and began to pull it over his friend’s body when Overton held out his hand.

  “Wait.” The sergeant crouched and pulled Thompson’s dog tags off his neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Overton forced himself to look once more at the lifeless marine’s face. First Finley and now Thompson. Not to mention the rest of his squad, who could still be out there.

  “Fuck,” Overton muttered. He rose to his feet and kicked a nearby crate as hard as he could, sending it skidding across the floor. Bouma and Kiel stood with their heads bowed as one last ray of sunlight shone through the gap in the doors before they clanged shut.

  * * *

  “How’s everyone doing?” Emanuel said, grabbing Sophie’s hand. She smiled and turned to embrace him. She’d hardly stopped hugging him since his return.

  “Much better now that you’re back,” she said, smiling.