Orbs (17 page)

Panic gripped him. Suddenly he felt completely alone. Was he the only one of his team left? Had the spiders killed Saafi, Holly, Timothy, and Owen?

His stomach lurched at the thought. He blinked again, straining to see into the darkness. For several minutes he sat in the cramped closet, his lungs filling with the stench of chemicals. Just when he thought the sound was gone, it erupted again, even louder than before.

Screech!

Emanuel tasted bile in the back of his throat. Never in his entire life had he been so sick with fear.

The sound grew louder. It didn't sound like the spiders. There was no scratching this time.

A faint blue glow illuminated the glass door separating the chamber from the cleansing rooms, about fifty meters from his hiding spot. He narrowed his eyes to focus on the glass, stilling his breath.

Inside the chamber something was moving—something big.

With every passing second the blue glow grew brighter and the sound amplified. Suddenly, a new noise rang out, followed by a loud bang.

Pressed against the glass was a face, devoid of humanity. A tongue exploded out of the creature's mouth and began licking the door violently, leaving slimy trails of blue goo against the glass.

Emanuel wanted to pull away, terrified the thing might be able to sense him, but a combination of curiosity and fear kept him glued to the sight. He still couldn't see anything but its face. The rest of the chamber had filled with a white mist that rose beneath the creature, camouflaging its body.

And then the face retreated and disappeared into the mist. The creature's glow pulsated within the chamber, turning the white mist
blue, beautiful yet terrifying.

Crack!

The piercing sound forced Emanuel against the back of the small storage area. His chest heaved and his heart raced within the confines of his rib cage. He began to panic, unable to get control of his labored breathing.

It took him a few minutes to regain his composure. Slowly he inched his way back to the keyhole. Staring in his direction was a nine-foot-tall monstrosity. Its skin was translucent, like the spiders', with blue veins crawling throughout the length of its body. The bottom half of the creature, as far as Emanuel could tell, consisted of two beefy legs and a slender tail ridged with spikes that connected to a massive torso. The upper half of its body was humanoid, with a thick chest, two muscular arms, a thin neck, and round face. But it was far from human. The creature's skull was lined with the same spikes as its tail, and in the center of its face was a single socket crammed with two small, reptilian eyes.

Emanuel waited, petrified, for several minutes. Finally, he took in a deep breath.

Whatever the thing was, it appeared to be intelligent. Perhaps he had just seen one of the more sophisticated Organics. He guessed the spiders were not the top of the Organic food chain, that there was another species behind the invasion. He forced his face against the keyhole one more time. Staring back at him from a meter away were two small, malevolent eyes. They blinked, and he let out a blood-curdling scream.

Sophie stood on the rooftop, watching the sunrise split the horizon in two. The clearest sky she had ever seen surrounded them in all directions. It was captivating and chilling at the same time. Zero cloud cover meant the Organics had already removed enough of the Earth's surface moisture that the water cycle had been broken. She was no meteorologist, but she knew enough about weather patterns to know the Earth was dying.

“What's that?” Overton asked from the corner of the roof. He took a step toward the railing and looked out across the Colorado Springs skyline through his scope.

Sophie strolled over to him, squinting into the sun to get a better look.

“Looks sort of like rain, but without the clouds. Here take a look,” he said, handing her a pair of binoculars.

“That's not rain. Those are the remains of people from the orbs that are being beamed up to a collection ship far above the atmosphere. You can't see it, but trust me, it's there,” Luke said from the stairway.

Overton narrowed his eyes. “How do you know all of this?”

“The ships have been in orbit since they invaded a few days ago. We didn't know about it until it was too late. They must have some sort of cloaking technology. I don't know,” he said shrugging. “All I know is that when they finally emerged on invasion day, our weapons systems were already dead from the magnetic disturbance. With the click of one button, the Organics unleashed a shockwave that effectively shut down most of our technological advances from the past millennium.”

Sophie's eyes widened. If what Luke was saying was true, then it was far worse than she had imagined. It was possible the government was completely gone. Sure, there would be other survivors in bunkers across the world, people like Luke who had survived the initial attack, but without jets, tanks, and nukes to fight back with, they would be eliminated one by one. Extermination was no longer just a worst-case scenario; it was quickly becoming a reality.

Overton coughed and jammed a cigarette between his dry lips. “How do we fight them?”

Luke laughed. “Typical soldier. I'm sorry, Sergeant, but we
don't
fight them. We hide and hope they leave without taking every ounce of water.”

“Negative. That's not happening,” Overton fired back. “I've killed almost a dozen of them already. They're weak. Once you bring down their shields, this thing we call a gun”—Overton shouldered his rifle and smiled—“turns them into dirty martinis.”

“So you've seen the worms and the spiders, I take it? Odd creatures.
No way in hell they're the intelligent ones, though. From what I've seen, they act like bugs. The spiders are the worker bees, tracking down water, weaving anyone or anything with a certain water weight into those orbs. Then the worms harvest the glowing prison cells and deliver the H
₂
O to the ships above with one giant belch,” he said pointing at the clear sky.

Luke's smile faded as he watched another ray of turquoise light race up into the sky. He strolled across the metal rooftop, his boots clanking until he stood only a few steps from Overton. “I'm no Marine. I can't shoot, and I surely wouldn't know how to handle myself in battle. I don't know military strategy either, but what I do know is this—” Luke paused and surveyed the skyline. “I know history. It was just a matter of time before our civilization collapsed. Look at what happened to the Roman Empire, the people of Easter Island, the Mayans, and the Native American tribes. They were all virtually wiped out. Either by an invading enemy, disease, or loss of resources.”

“But they weren't completely wiped out,” Sophie interjected.

Luke smiled. “No, but they weren't fighting against a far superior species either. If you think about it this way, all three of the extermination factors in the demise of those cultures are present in this invasion. Consider this,” he said, looking back over the railing. “We have an amazingly intelligent invading species. Any survivors will have to battle diseases due to lack of sanitary conditions, and the few who remain after that will have to contend with the loss of our most precious resource: water.”

Overton brought his rifle back down to waist level, and joined Luke in surveying the skyline. He wasn't a history buff, but he knew enough to know the man was right. He shook his head and began the journey back to the bunker.

“Where are you going, Sergeant?” Luke asked.

“I'm going to gather my men and supplies. We're heading back to the Biosphere within the hour. You're welcome to come with,” he said, disappearing down the stairs.

Luke looked like he had just been hit in the gut. He watched Sophie, who still stood at the edge of the roof, transfixed by the sporadic rays of
blue shooting out of Colorado Springs. He studied her for a moment before making his way to the staircase. He had to stop Overton; he couldn't let them leave. No one was going anywhere.

CHAPTER 20

F
INLEY,
Bouma, gear up. We're heading out ASAP,” Overton shouted, the words echoing through the cave.

A pair of footsteps rang out from the metal stairs behind him, and moments later he felt the grip of a hand on his injured shoulder. He grimaced. “Hands off,” he growled.

“Sergeant Overton, you're making a big mistake,” Luke said. “Your facility is more than likely already compromised. Besides, you're all welcome to stay here. I have supplies, and my magnetic device will prevent them from ever finding us. We should wait out the invasion and reemerge when they leave,” he insisted. “We need each other. With your NTC training, and my resources, this could be the safest place on Earth.”

Overton pulled his bicep free from the man's grip. “Reemerge to what? To a world without water? No, I'm not risking that. I'm leading my men back to the Biosphere, where the rest of our team is. I made a promise, and I'm not the type of man to go back on my word. You're welcome to come with and bring your little magnet toy. ”

Luke laughed. “I don't suppose I could change your mind?” He looked at Sophie and held her eye for a second. She walked over to Overton and stood shoulder to shoulder with the Marine.

“We have people back at the Biosphere. We've got to go back,” she said sternly.

“Very well,” Luke replied.

“Thanks for your hospitality,” Overton said. He finished packing his
bag and turned to see Luke had vanished.

Fuck. Just what I needed.

“Men, keep an eye on him,” Overton said. “I don't trust him. Something tells me he isn't quite right in the head.”

Sophie hovered over the couch, trying to get Jamie's attention with a warm smile. She wasn't sure if the girl was asleep or just hiding her face between her legs, but time was running out. The Marines were ready to move, and there was no way Sophie was going to leave the girl behind with Luke, even if the journey outside was risky.

“Jamie, I know you're scared, but we have to go now. There is a safer place for us. A place where there is a boy your age. His name is Owen.”

The girl peeked one eye from between her knees. “Do I have to go outside?”

“Only for a little while. And I promise I'll be by your side the entire way,” Sophie insisted. “Can you be brave like Owen?”

Jamie's eyes widened. With one swift movement, she nodded and jumped off the couch. “I bet I'm faster than he is, too,” she said.

Sophie smiled. Kids never ceased to amaze her—their resiliency, their competitiveness with each other, and their innocence. She watched Jamie run toward Overton and Bouma as the unmistakable click of a gun's safety rang out behind them.

“No one's going anywhere,” a voice said from the entry to the bunker.

Overton didn't need to turn to see Luke standing in the doorway, the machine gun leveled at his back. He'd had a feeling the man was close to losing it but even the veteran Marine had underestimated the man's intentions.

“You can't go out there. You won't survive,” he said tonelessly.

Luke's voice reminded Overton of Alexia's—robotic and calm and unwavering. He watched Bouma pull his hand from his backpack and slowly reach for his sidearm. Overton shook his head and caught the corporal's eye. “No,” he mouthed before turning to face Luke.

“You don't want to do this, Mr. Williard,” he said, his hands raised.

“Drop the formalities. This isn't open for discussion. Now put your weapons on the table and take a seat on the couch.”

“What are we now, your hostages? Are you going to keep us here forever?” Overton asked, his face turning red with anger.

Sophie watched from a distance, frozen. She motioned for Jamie to come back, and moments later she felt the girl's arms around her waist.

“You will stay as long as those things are outside,” Luke replied. “Now, where's that private? Finster? Finley?” he asked, scanning the room with his machine gun.

In the second Luke turned his head, Overton unbuttoned the holster to his .45, spun, and fired off two shots. One punched a neat hole in Luke's leg, while the other severed his firing hand at the wrist. The man's legs folded underneath him and a spray of bloody mist shot into the air.

Sophie reached down to cover Jamie's eyes. She struggled to see what was happening and pulled free of Sophie's grasp. Jamie screamed, watching Luke flop around on the rocky floor like a fish fighting to get back into water.

Sophie grabbed Jamie and forced the girl's face against her side. “What did you do, Sergeant?” she yelled.

Finley rushed into the room, his rifle drawn. “Holy shit!”

The brilliant afternoon sun reflected off Finley's silver visor. Overton tinted his own visor and took to his stomach to survey the area with his scope. The box on his HUD blinked free of contacts, and with a quick motion of his hand, the team advanced up the hill. Hitting the tree line, they fanned out, with Finley taking point and Bouma hugging their six.

Sophie stumbled on a loose rock and felt Jamie's grip tighten around her armored neck.

“Go back to sleep,” Sophie whispered.

Jamie responded by squeezing her even tighter. The meds Overton had given her were sedatives meant for adults. They had slipped one in a glass of water moments before they left Luke's bunker. In only a few minutes the pill took effect, just the right amount of time for Sophie and Bouma to retrieve the magnetic device from its hardened case on the roof. Now the meds were wearing off, and Sophie didn't know how
much longer the girl would stay drowsy and quiet.

Sophie craned her neck to see Bouma struggling to keep up. He had hastily tied several cords together and fastened the device to his back. It was clearly weighing him down. By the time they reached the top of the ridgeline he was bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“You're going to have to slow down. This thing weighs a ton,” he said between breaths.

Overton blinked and pulled up the red clock in the corner of his HUD. It was 4:45 p.m. They still had several hours of daylight left, and had so far gone undetected. But they were, according to his projections, at least another five miles from the Biosphere. He blinked again and gazed upon the mountains in the distance with clear, focused eyes. Cheyenne Mountain was blanketed in pine trees. It looked so far away, an impossible distance to cover without being spotted by the Organics—especially with a girl and a hundred-pound magnet in tow.

He cursed and rubbed his throbbing arm. The gel Sophie had applied was wearing off, and the pain was slowly coming back.

Just my luck.

“Pack it up. We have a hump to travel,” Overton said into his com.

“Roger,” Finley responded, disappearing down the hill, a cloud of dust trailing him.

Sophie watched the dirt swirl like a miniature tornado. It was then that she saw the depression of what had been a lake only days before. For the first time, she understood the end of the world was no longer a hypothetical concept, a theory to be debated by academics. Rationally, she'd known the consequences of Earth's surface water being stolen. Ecosystems would begin to collapse. Trees would wither and die. Carbon emission levels would reach an all-time high, causing temperatures to rise, and any human survivors would be forced underground.

A pine needle pinged off her helmet. It disappeared as it hit the ground, camouflaged by the tan dirt. She continued to scan the area, her eyes falling on dry brushes and browning trees. As a scientist, she'd known all of this, but looking at the dry lakebed, it was suddenly real. The truth sent a shiver down the length of her body just as Bouma
tapped her on her shoulder.

“Gotta move, ma'am,” he said, rushing by her.

Sophie nodded and repositioned Jamie so she could carry the little girl more easily. With a sigh she took the first step into the depression below.

They traveled silently through the barren forest for hours, until the trees parted and revealed what had been civilization. Finley paused at the side of a gravel road and listened to a taut power line whine in the breeze. For a moment he wondered if it was still carrying any electricity, but he knew it was unlikely.

In the distance a weak sun began to set over Cheyenne Mountain, turning the sky a brilliant crimson. Overton blinked, and his visor automatically adjusted to the change in light. He took one knee next to Finley and stared silently down the road.

“Contacts?” Overton whispered into his com.

“Negative. All clear,” Finley replied.

Overton didn't like the silence. It was eerie, and it filled his mind with questions. Had the Organics retreated? Were they waiting for the right time to ambush his team? Or were they simply too busy turning the population of Colorado Springs into smoothies?

None of the possibilities was particularly reassuring. Either way, Overton knew they needed to move. He didn't want to get caught in the open during the night. It seemed like that was when the Organics were at their most active.

He nodded at Finley, who immediately took off running down the gravel road. There was zero cover for a klick or so where the road wound upward and wrapped around the mountain. It was the only way to get to the blast doors, but it also left his team completely exposed.

Overton watched the man for several minutes before taking off behind him. Finley's helmet bobbed as he ran. Up and down, up and down. His eyes followed the movement for a moment and then scanned the sky and surrounding area for contacts.

Nothing.

It was a good sign, but for some reason it only added to his nervousness. Surely the Organics had detected them by now, so what
was stopping them from attacking? He had left Luke's bunker prepared for a fight, and now he was getting anxious. Where were they?

He gripped the pulse rifle tighter, ignoring the pain shooting down his injured arm. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on, making his way to the edge of the road where it began its winding journey up the mountain. It was there he finally halted, struggling for air and watching Sophie and Bouma make their way up the incline with their precious cargo.

Overton looked up at the trail. “Almost there,” he said, smiling behind his visor. Sophie didn't pause when she caught up with him. She continued up the hill at a pace that impressed even the Marine. He had always been a firm believer that people picked up speed in the last stretch of a race, especially when they could see a finish line. She was proving his theory to be true.

He leveled his rifle toward the ground and continued on, swearing that he would finally quit smoking. But as the blast doors came into focus, he was already imagining how sweet his next cigarette would taste. Then he noticed that something was wrong with the doors.

They were already open.