Orbs II: Stranded (20 page)

No contacts. Just the green outlines of modern infrastructure.

Silence consumed them. Another minute passed. Then two. Overton remained completely still, frozen like a statue.

A crackle of static broke over her headset, nearly making her fire off a random shot. She eased her finger off the trigger. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to their position.

“I lost the feed,” Overton finally said in a hushed voice.

“What?” Bouma whispered.

“The bot feed. It just cut out.”

“Can you rewind the video?” Bouma asked.

“Working on it.”

Sophie waited in silence. The tunnel was completely still, no sign of life, but somewhere out there she could sense the aliens.

Overton cursed. “Looks like the stupid bot ran smack into the middle of a nest of Spiders.”

“Shit. How far?” Bouma asked. His typically calm voice sounded strained.

“Not far. Maybe two turns. It’s hard to say for sure . . . God!” Overton crouched on the ground and hit his helmet with his right hand.

Sophie watched the man smack his head repeatedly. Was he losing it at last?

“Overton?” Bouma finally asked, approaching the man. “What are your orders?”

The marine stopped hitting his helmet but didn’t get up. He remained crouched, staring into the tunnel.

“Sir?” Bouma entreated.

At the end of the passage, right before it curved into another tunnel, a light emerged. Sophie’s heart stopped. With a blink, she clicked off her infrared and night vision so she could see it with her own eyes.

The aliens had found them.

The tunnel was bathed in blue light. The terrifying scratching sound came seconds later.

Jeff let go of her hand and moved behind her. “Sophie,” he whispered.

Bouma took another step closer to Overton, who watched the halo of blue light intensify. “Sir! What are your orders?!”

Overton slowly cocked his helmet up at the man. “I’ll hold them off.”

Sophie looked at the man in disbelief. He had zero electromagnetic grenades, only one pulse magazine, and a handful of regular grenades that she doubted would have any effect.

Yup.
The man has officially lost his mind
,
Sophie thought. She grabbed Jeff and knelt down in front of him. “Listen to me very carefully. You hold on to my hand and don’t let go. You got it?”

Jeff nodded, his eyes reflecting the blue light of the approaching
aliens.

Sophie spun quickly to see Bouma grab Overton’s shoulder.

“No way, Overton, that’s suicide,” Bouma shouted.

“Go!”
Overton yelled, jumping to his feet and leveling his rifle in the light’s direction.

Bouma ran over to Sophie and Jeff. “You heard him.
Move!
”

His voice was deep and commanding, but Sophie hesitated. They couldn’t just leave Overton. He was wasting his life. His sacrifice would buy them seconds at best.

“Come on!” Bouma said, running back the way they had come.

Sophie finally moved—but not toward Bouma. “Watch him,” she said, pushing Jeff toward the marine.

She ran as hard as she could to catch up with Overton. By the time she got to him, he was crouching behind a trash bin, his weapon pointed at the approaching glimmering light. Sophie still couldn’t see them, but she could hear them. And she could feel them. The tunnel walls shook with the vibrations of the approaching horde.

But she wasn’t going to let her fear take hold of her. Not anymore—not when it mattered most. She tapped on Overton’s visor with her .45.

“What the hell! I told you to get out of here!”

Another vibration shook the passage, and dust rained down from the ceiling.

“Please, we need you,” Sophie said.

Overton pushed himself off the ground and stood shoulder to shoulder with her while he watched the light intensify. A second tremor shook the ceiling and Overton cocked his helmet to look at Sophie. “You really are a pain in my ass, you know that?” Shouldering his weapon he said, “How fast can you run?”

Then he exploded into a sprint.

Sophie wasn’t prepared for the rhetorical question, but she didn’t hesitate. It only took her two heartbeats to catch up with him. When she passed him, she stole a glance over her shoulder. The entire tunnel was lit up like one massive LED.

Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.

The first Spiders came crashing around the corner, tumbling into a
somersault with limbs flailing. The next batch slowed by sliding their claws across the concrete. A trail of sparks funneled behind them. The first three Spiders lost their balance and tumbled over one another. They were quickly crushed by the advancing pack, their blue blood painting the tunnel wall.

As Sophie and Overton finally made their way around the first turn, the Spiders’ shrieks slashed through the passage. Only this time it was louder, it was more concentrated, and it wasn’t coming from the Spiders. It was coming from one of the Steam Beasts.

CHAPTER 28

T
HE
sweat was flowing freely off Kiel’s face. Every time he wiped it away, it would drench his gloves, which made it more difficult to get a proper grip on the rocks. He was resting now in the crevice of the mountain, watching the blue drone zip back and forth across the skyline. It was hunting. He could only hope it wasn’t looking for the others. They would surely be deep within the city now. And that meant he was running out of time.

He took one last swig of water and tossed the empty bottle over the edge. Looking up, he could see he was almost to the spot Alexia had plotted on his tablet. At least he thought he was. Without the device, it was really tough to tell. The mountain was starting to blend together, and he wasn’t sure which route up was the best.

With the trail ending, he was now at the technical part of the climb. The mountain curved up into a smooth vertical wall at least fifteen feet high. Fortunately there wasn’t much wind, just a breeze coming from the southwest. With a deep breath, he rubbed his hands together and brushed another bead of sweat out of his eyes with his sleeve.

Grabbing the weapon’s makeshift straps, he threw it around his shoulders. The rectangular box dug into his shoulder blades, which were already raw from carrying it this far. If he made it back, he was going to ask someone for a massage . . .

If.

He swept his gaze across the vertical mountainside, trying to visually map out a route. There was no way around it; he would have to go
straight up. He could identify several areas for his hands and feet, but there was at least a five-foot span where the rock was completely smooth.

He looked back over the valley below and studied the distant city. Heat waves shimmered over the dead landscape, making the skyscrapers look like metal weeds swaying in a breeze. Most of his squad had died out there, and his brother and sister, too. He’d been so caught up in trying to survive, he had hardly thought of anyone else. And now he had a chance to avenge them.

This was his chance to make things right.

He slid out of his boots and tossed them aside. There was no way they’d get any traction on the smooth surface. He was better off barefoot. Bending down, he grabbed some powder he’d made from crushed chalk he’d found in the CIC. He sprinkled it over his feet, hoping it would keep most of the sweat off.

With his fingers and toes powdered, he retrieved a pickaxe, a knife, and the short tactical rope they had pulled from the Humvee. He pulled the rope as hard as he could, testing its strength. The cord needed to hold at least 220 pounds—the combined weight of him and the RVAMP.

He scanned the route one more time. Protruding from the cliff top was a decent-sized tree. He squinted, trying to determine how thick it was, but with the constant stream of sweat, his eyes were becoming too irritated to concentrate. If he could manage to get the rope around one of the branches, or the tree itself, then he had a backup plan if he lost his footing.

Grabbing the rope he tied a belay loop around him. Without a device to slip the knot through, the best he could do was to tie it around his hip. Then he tied another loop at the other end of the rope and began lassoing it through the air. The first toss went wide and missed the tree completely. So did the second. On his third try, the loop slipped perfectly over one of the thicker branches, sliding all the way down to the trunk. He pulled the rope tight. Hundreds of dead pine needles rained down from the bare branches, but the loop held. It felt sturdy enough.

Knowing he couldn’t waste any more time, he grabbed the pick in one hand and the knife in the other. He approached the cliff face confidently. He’d climbed much more technical passes before. But then again, the last time he’d done any rock climbing at all was on a leave trip five years before the invasion. Not to mention he now had a metal weapon digging into his back.

As he looked up, a gust of wind hit his body, throwing him slightly off balance.

“No, not now. Please not now,” he whispered. He hadn’t started climbing yet, but if the wind started up, he knew the journey would be nearly impossible.

He waited for another gust of wind, but none came. Letting out a deep breath, he closed his eyes and hammered the pick into the rock a few feet above him. He slipped his bare foot into a small crevice and stuck the blade of his knife in a crack a foot above his head.

He pulled himself up, his feet scrambling to get traction. The first three feet were cake. But he still had twelve more to go.

Don’t
look down.

He didn’t. He pulled the knife free and dug it into another small crevice. Then he did the same with his axe and slowly pulled himself up. The weight of the device on his back sent a sharp spike of pain rushing through his upper body. His muscles strained, stretched, and burned. He could feel his back muscles clenching as he climbed. The pain was becoming unbearable.

Adrenaline filled his veins as he hammered the pick into the mountain a few feet higher. He had never free-climbed before, not like this. Not without any modern climbing equipment to prevent injuries in a possible fall. But after so many near-death experiences over the past month, he wasn’t scared anymore. He knew his life expectancy had been severely reduced the day the Organics invaded, and he had accepted his fate.

He wouldn’t give up until he had completed the mission.

The loud blast of an alien drone, followed by another wind gust, battered him. He instantly lost his footing and hung from his knife and axe with his feet kicking frantically at the wall below him. Numbness
surged through his entire body as he hung there.

Snap!

The handle of his knife broke off, leaving the blade inside the rock. He swung to the right, the grip on the pickaxe now the only thing preventing him from tumbling to the rocky ground far below.

Grunting, Kiel ran his bare toes over the surface of the rock. He had to find a foothold or the pickaxe handle would break. His fate would be the same as his tablet’s.

“Shit,” he mumbled, digging his toes into the surface of the mountain. A toenail snapped under a jagged piece of rock and he wailed in pain.

Wincing, Kiel worked to steady his breathing. He knew he needed to focus. To concentrate. The only way off this mountain was up.

Clearing his mind, he sucked in a deep breath and ran his toes against the rock again. He wedged them into a gap and let some of the pressure off the axe’s handle. The weight of the RVAMP strained his shoulders, and he imagined one of the straps ripping.

His chest felt tight at the thought. With his right foot secure he looked for a place for his left hand. He ran his fingers over the smooth rock and found another small crevice. Jamming three of his fingers inside, he braced himself just in time as another gust of wind tore into his side.

Kiel cursed. If history books were still being written, this scene would have belonged in them for sure.

After the wind had passed, he angled himself carefully, pressing his face against the smooth rock wall. He squinted, closing one eye so he could find the next hole for his pick. There, a few feet up. With a quick blow, the tip slid into a small crack in the rock. He removed the pick, slipped his left fingers inside the hole, and then hammered the pick into the rock a few feet farther up. Once he was certain he had a tight grip, he pulled himself up.

The relief of not plunging to his death was quickly overshadowed by the sound of the drone behind him. He craned his neck to see the small blue dot changing course. It looked like it was moving toward the mountain.

With sweat dripping down his face, it was hard to tell. He was wasting time. His fate was in his own hands.

Glancing up, he saw he was closing in on the ledge above. Six more feet to go. No more than a minute if he hightailed it. Too bad he had seconds at best. If he wanted to get to the top, he was going to have to do it much faster.

Kiel closed his eyes, said a prayer, and began to climb.

Captain Noble watched the undulation of whitecaps far below. The cool blue water extended as far as he could see, so it was difficult to determine where the ocean ended and the cloudless sky began. He had always loved the sea. He’d grown up outside San Diego and had spent his weekends with his feet in the sand, watching the waves roll onto shore. The oceans were a gift that was he was prepared to defend with every weapon he had at his disposal.

A sharp turn from the chopper sent him jolting forward. When he looked up, he saw something new.

Land.

They were nearing the coast. It would only be a few more hours before they reached Colorado Springs. He cocked his head to see the other soldiers staring contently ahead. He’d hardly had the chance to meet any of them. But under those helmets he knew there were young faces, some no older than eighteen or nineteen. They were just kids—kids he was leading into battle against a seemingly endless and terrifying army of alien life-forms.

Was he prepared to do that? To watch young men and women die under his command?

Noble turned away from them to stare out the glass window. The sandy beaches below were littered with capsized boats, their cargos strewn across the sand like spilled groceries. The helicopter began to descend over the beach. The lower the bird, the harder the target. In the open sky, you leave yourself exposed. That’s what his father had always told him.

Below them, the beach transitioned into mainland. Noble had
seen plenty of it through the periscope, but seeing it this close was shocking. Like a battlefield, the ground was peppered with craters, more than likely the remains of dried-up lakes and ponds. The roadway was clogged with abandoned vehicles, and the once-lush forests were graveyards of dead trees. The temperature gauge reading from outside said it was 103 degrees. The world was beginning to look more like a dead, alien planet than Earth.

“Captain Noble, I have contacts coming up at twelve o’clock,” the pilot said over the com.

Noble flinched at the statement. “What kind of contacts?” He suddenly felt stupid, knowing damned well that whatever was ahead of them wasn’t friendly.

“Not human, sir. I’ll connect the video feed.”

Noble peered up at the screen and waited anxiously to get his first glimpse of the aliens up close. From his peripheral vision, he could see helmets all around him turning to watch the screen.

The pilot’s calm voice crackled over the com. “Sir, video feed going live in . . .”

An image of a shopping mall emerged on the display. They were coming up on it fast, and in the middle of the gray concrete parking lot was a pack—no, an
army
of Spiders.

“Holy shit, there have to be hundreds of them,” the pilot said.

Noble felt the helicopter tug hard to the left, and the image of the mall disappeared.

“Evasive maneuvers,” Captain Noble shouted.

“Working on it, sir.”

The chopper pulled farther to the left and raced toward a cluster of hills. Noble twisted his neck to see if he could see the shopping mall, but it had vanished behind them.

“Any drones?”

“Negative, sir. Looks like we’re clear for now.”

Noble looked over at Harrington. His fiery orange goggles remained glued to the screen, like a robot waiting for orders. With a sigh, the captain rested his helmet back on his seat and closed his eyes. Just a few more hours to go.

The deafening roar from the Steam Beast trailing them echoed through the passage like a train’s horn. Sophie didn’t have time to wonder how it had gotten down into the tunnels. She could hear the creature bucking the helpless Spiders out of its way and the sickening crunch each one made when it hit the walls.

She flinched at every sound, but continued to run.

“We need to get out of here!” Bouma said over the com.

“Find us an exit, quick!” Overton replied.

Sophie risked a glance over her shoulder. What she saw sent a chill down her spine. Behind Overton the Steam Beast was barreling down the tunnel, its hooves smashing the concrete. The creature galloped forward, swinging its beak from side to side and crushing any Spider that risked a pass.

“Ahead!” Bouma shouted. “The train!”

Sophie turned to see the metal outline of a subway train around the next corner. Bouma was already climbing onto the back end, trying to force the door open.

The crunch of concrete and metal echoed through the corridor, mixing with the screeches of the furious Spiders. Sophie knew they were getting closer. In seconds the horde would be on top of them.

Ahead, Bouma finally managed to swing the back door open. He reached down and pulled Jeff inside and then turned back for Sophie.

“Overton! You need to move!” Bouma shouted.

The crack of gunfire erupted. Sophie flinched at every shot. Was Overton really trying to take on the horde?

Inside the train she turned to see the sergeant a hundred yards away, firing short, controlled bursts at the Steam Beast. The alien swayed from side to side, its beak-shaped nose launching another Spider into the air. It was then she saw the orbs lining the exposed belly of the beast.

“My God,” she choked. She imagined the poor souls that were dissolving inside. Her stomach churning, Sophie backed away from the door and guided Jeff down the aisle. “Let’s go.”

More gunfire broke out as they moved. When Sophie was halfway
down the first car she turned to watch. Bouma fired off his pulse rifle from the door. “Come on!” he yelled.

The blue glow was so intense now, like a sea of electric light was racing toward them. She squinted and watched Overton climb into the train with Bouma’s assistance. Grabbing Jeff close, Sophie shielded him as the Steam Beast smashed into the car.

The impact sent both marines sailing through the air. They landed with thuds on the metal floor a few feet away from Sophie. Neither of the men bothered standing, instead opening fire from their prone positions.

The combination of gunfire and the enraged Steam Beast’s shrieks was deafening. Sophie cupped Jeff’s ears. He squirmed in her grip, trying to peek through her arms.