“Sir. We're in the middle of a training drill,” Merck said after saluting. “Private Sarek is being uncooperative. I don't believe she possesses the stamina to be a medic.”
“You must be mistaken. Sarek is one of our up-and-coming recruits. She’s excused from today’s drill.”
Merck’s mouth dropped. “Sir? The exercise is required for next-level assignments.”
“Are you questioning my orders?” Tyren glared at him.
Merck reddened. “N-no, sir.”
“Sarek, with me.” Tyren left the room.
I struggled to my feet, still dizzy, but able to walk. As I passed Merck, I snuck a glance, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Hey,” Williams blurted from the clinic bed. “You fixed my ankle!”
“Huh?” asked Merck.
Williams pushed himself off the bed and flexed his right foot. “While you were focused on this dumb fake injury, she fixed my sprain. I thought I’d need X-rays and a cast, but…”
I raised a finger to my lips behind Merck’s back. “I’m glad it helped, but I’ve gotta run.” Before backing out of the room, I winked at Williams.
I raced to catch up with Tyren outside the hospital. The fresh air washed away the thought of needles, blood, and sickness.
“I’ve been checking up on you,” he said as we strode across the quad.
“You mean from the cameras that record us constantly?”
He did a double take, and I flashed a grin. Shaking his head, he said, “Merck is not happy with you.”
“He's an asshole.”
“Regardless, he's your superior and the one person who can pass or fail you.”
I stared straight ahead and matched his long gait.
“The good news is that other supervisors have noted your calm manner and the fact that your patients seem to do remarkably well under your care.” He halted, facing me.
“I also heard you volunteer for weapon systems training, defensive maneuvers, and land nav. Those aren’t approved courses for medics.”
A lump formed in my throat. Disappointing Tyren was the last thing I wanted. “I’m sorry, I—”
“I want to know why,” he interrupted. “Not excuses. Why do you want combat training?”
His heavy gaze seemed as though it would drill into me, and I hesitated. “If I'm out on the battlefield, I want training like the other soldiers. What if something bad happened to them, and they needed help? If I can defend my squad, maybe we can survive.”
“Most medics don't want to learn sophisticated assault tactics.” A smile threatened his stern features. “But you're not like most medics, are you?” He turned, walking slower this time.
I supposed he was right. Jenna and the others wanted to be doctors. “Merck wants to flunk me because I hate needles, and I like combat training.”
Tyren sighed. “Merck is old school. In past wars, there were international diplomatic rules governing warfare. Medics weren’t always trained to fight. They had to know their way around a gun, just in case, but… Ida, the rules have changed. The Heavies don't follow the old rules. They don't distinguish between soldier and medic.”
My footsteps grew heavier with each step as my mind turned over his words. The rules have changed.
“I don't care for Merck’s opinion,” he continued. “You have something special. I heard what that soldier said about his ankle. I don’t know how you did it, but hear this—” He lowered his voice and glanced behind him. “I won't reveal your… ability to anyone else.”
A knot tightened inside my stomach. He knew. Somehow, despite being careful to hide it, he had figured out my secret.
We reached the barracks, and he faced me. “I won't sugarcoat what's happening out there. It’s dangerous, deadly, and scary. We're fighting a species we don't even understand. I'm deploying in two days’ time, and I want you at my side.”
I stared at my boots, not believing his words. Why would someone as powerful as Tyren need an untrained medic? “But I haven’t graduated—”
“Like I said, we live by new rules. You’ll come with me, serve in my squad.”
I waited, barely able to breathe.
“Your first mission, Ida. If you think you're ready.”
Krakow, Poland
How can someone ever be ready for war? I wondered as I sat inside the military air cruiser. Across from me, Tyren waited. My eyes traveled to his hands—the edges of his fingernails were red. Picked raw. So he worried, too.
I peered down the row of soldiers whom he had introduced me to the night before. They were all at least a year or two older than me, but different—hardened.
Tyren wouldn’t tell me what had happened to his last medic. The others stole glances but looked away, like they didn’t want to get to know me.
That's fine by me, I thought. I wasn’t here to make friends. My mission was to follow Tyren’s orders. Survive and help my fellow troops.
Only, helping people meant keeping a big secret. If others found me out, I’d end up a lab rat in another medical lab. I couldn’t imagine a worse place on Earth. I'd rather be here, battling the Heavies.
“Krakow,” Tyren told us. “Town population was 800,000, but most have left—traveling as refugees—looking for safer places away from the fighting. The Vistula river runs through the middle and has several bridges. We’re approaching the city center from the south. The Heavies have occupied much of the northern side.”
“So why are we here?” a soldier asked. His ID said Farrelly.
“Most residents cleared out, but there were a few holdouts,” Tyren said. “Our mission is to rescue people from an orphanage.”
I cringed, like someone had punched me in the gut. “Orphanage?” I blurted out.
Tyren raised his eyebrows, then read intel on his command tablet. “A few nuns volunteered to stay behind with the sick and disabled children who couldn’t travel. They had food supplies and holed up, to wait out the attack. But the situation here is very dangerous. They need to be evacuated.”
A raven-haired woman with a scowl said, “We’re risking our necks for a bunch of kids? Aren’t there more important targets to hit?”
Her words angered me; I almost leaped out of my seat.
“This is important, Perez,” Tyren said, glaring at her. “This is our mission. No more questions.” He leaned back and met my gaze.
Slowly, I nodded. We're doing the right thing. I know what it's like for orphans. I grew up afraid, always on edge. What kind of hell had these kids lived?
The cruiser slowed, and we geared up. The soldiers rushed out of the landing door. I strapped on my medical unit pack so it rested across my back, then patted the switchblade I’d tucked into an ankle holster on my right leg. As I exited, Tyren grabbed my arm.
“Take this.” He handed me a semiautomatic rifle.
I frowned. “I’ve only done target practice—”
“And I hear you’re a good shot. Be safe out there.”
Ducking, I ran down the ramp to join the rest of the squad and another group of soldiers that were clustered near an armored tank.
The city lay spread out in the distance. A fire burned along an avenue. Black smoke swirled in the air, ominous.
The river cut a swath through the center, and a steel bridge with brightly painted arched beams was the closest path across.
Tyren shouted above the wind. “No tanks on the bridge; I want this to be stealth. Perez and Farrelly, proceed into the center on foot. The target is inside that large granite building, second floor.”
The two soldiers zoomed in with their Enhanced Combat Helmet visors. I was still getting used to mine. The polyethylene material would protect against small-arms fire and debris fragments. But reading the navigation and scanning for heat markers seemed difficult, even distracting.
Tyren scanned their faces for agreement. “Report back when you reach the orphanage.”
They nodded and descended the sloping hill. I followed their long strides, marveling at
their speed, when suddenly, large objects in the sky caught my eye. Comets, I thought.
“Incoming pods!” Tyren shouted into his comm.
The other soldiers tensed and gripped their rifles as if ready to shoot. But shoot at what?
“Stay back, Sarek,” he said, “close to me.”
I peered up. The dark pods splattered the view, their dark metal glistening against the flat, gray backdrop. Beautiful and horrific all at once.
I had seen nothing like it.
Two pods made impact near the bridge—skidding into the ground with a roaring thud. The sound shook our bones as if a towering giant had slammed her fist into the earth.
The vessels rained down heavier now and filled most of the sky. How could there be so many?
One hit the side of the orphanage. The soldiers nearby scattered, and I didn’t know what to do. I looked to Tyren, but he was distracted, giving orders and checking on intel.
Before long, Perez’s voice flooded Tyren’s comm. “Captain, you read?”
“Tyren here, over.”
“Sir?” she said. “We need the medic. A child was hit. Shrapnel wound.”
He glanced at me and frowned. “On our way. Hang tight, Perez. That’s an order.”
Shrapnel wound. The words floated in my head and rested like dull lead in my belly.
“I’ll go.” I started forward, but he grabbed my arm.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Sir!” A soldier from a nearby squad rushed over. Sweat coated his forehead, and the color had drained from his face. “Captain Tyren, we’re facing a full-on assault from the incoming pods. The Heavies are emerging and… our Captain—he didn't make it.”
Tyren looked between me and the soldier. Indecisive. And in that moment, he was just as exposed and afraid as the rest of us.
“Tyren, I’ll go,” I said, feeling detached from my body. Someone stronger had taken over. Where did she come from? “They need you here. All I have to do is run across the river and into that building. I can handle it.”
He stared into my eyes, his mouth twisting. After a few seconds, he grabbed my shoulders. “Be careful. Stay in contact. Report as soon as you're safely across and in the orphanage. Do not stop for anything else.”
I hurried down the hill and through ghostly city streets. Never had I seen a place so abandoned. I wondered whether anyone had waited out the fighting. Did they watch as I sprinted past their windows? Had they lingered, not believing the reports of aliens falling from the sky. Did they believe now?
Adrenaline propelled my legs until I reached a deserted street. I slowed to a jog, staying beside the buildings. Would it matter? The combat instructor had tried to prepare the troops for the Heavies. But the details were sketchy, and the more questions I’d asked, the less they knew.
Gunfire erupted behind me, the sound ricocheting against brick, concrete, and metal, so I couldn’t tell how close it was.
Pressed against a building, I paused, catching my breath, then followed a side street, head down, praying not to be noticed.
Something clattered nearby.
Ducking into a small, sunken stairwell, I tried a door only to find it locked.
A loud explosion jolted me, and I crouched in the vestibule where delivery men had once entered the basement.
Behind me, alien pods rained down on the city like metal seeds. The earth-wrecking spores tore gashes into land and pummeled the city’s architecture, shattering windows and spewing debris.
Luminous violet clouds washed over the sky. Looking north, where I headed, there was an eerie calm. To my south, chaos. Glass-encased modern offices shattered as pods crushed into them. The instructors had said the Heavy’s metal shells weighed as much as solid iron and protected the creatures inside despite the violent impact.
I said a silent prayer for Tyren and the squad, though I knew they were strong. Tyren had survived much worse. Hadn’t he?
The scent of ozone lingered in the air, like lightning had struck nearby. An instructor had mentioned the Heavy ships caused atmospheric disturbances. Goosebumps prickled my arms.
Keep moving, I ordered myself. I jumped from my basement shelter and ran past a building lined with shop windows. Scanning the pictures on the signs, my thoughts registered butcher, laundromat, and something called a delikatesy. Only dark facades remained. Most of the windows were covered with Polish graffiti.
People in Krakow used to go about living normal lives—shopping at these stores—but now the Heavies prowled the streets, killing our species.
I must reach the orphanage.
I reached the river’s edge when it began to rain. At the bridge, soldiers stood guard on both ends, near armored tanks. A pang of relief coursed through me—they’ll help protect me.
I shouldered my rifle and approached the soldier on my side of the bridge. He watched me with wide, glassy eyes.
“Medic,” I said and pointed to my arm patch—the red cross insignia identifying my role.
He started to answer when an enormous explosion rocked the foundation under us. Every part of me shook as a force like a hurricane gust knocked me back several feet.
My shoulders hit the cement sidewalk nearby and my helmet was pelted by debris. As I lay amid rubble, I shut my eyes, hoping the worst of it was over.
After a minute, the dust cleared, and I scrambled to my feet to find the soldier sitting up nearby. He stared up at the sky, dazed.
“Hey, get up,” I said.
A vessel plummeted into the river, unleashing a massive wave that flooded the narrow street. The deadly projectile had nearly hit the bridge. Could Heavies swim?
The soldier stood, and we crouched next to his tank. I said, “I need to cross.”
“Why the hell do you want to go over there?” Sweat dripped down his dusty face.
“I have to cross. Someone’s injured. They called for me.”
Another explosion rocked the street, this time a direct hit on an apartment building. He winced and nudged my shoulder. “Go. I’ll comm the other side.”
“Thank you.” I ran across the bridge as more pods rained down. Halfway across, a pod struck the top of the steel-framed arches. I staggered to the ground. On the far end, a female soldier started yelling, but I couldn’t hear through my ringing ears.
She shouted again and held her arms out toward me. Stunned, I looked behind and saw the tank on fire. The soldier’s body lay next to it in a heap.
An eerie cracking noise began, as if something massive was bending under a great weight. The bridge I stood on was collapsing. A wide crack snaked its way through the middle of the concrete, and on either side, pieces of road crumbled into the waterway.
I leaped to my feet and sprinted toward the screaming soldier. My ears still rang. She might have said, “Faster,” and I pushed my muscles, squeezing out every bit of energy.
Behind me, asphalt and steel were being sucked downward into the water like a vacuum. I kept running, but—too late. Lunging, I reached out, stretching forward. There was no footing suddenly, and I flailed my legs. The soldier grabbed for my hands but missed. It happened fast, then she grasped my forearm, slipping at first, but holding me as my body swung above the churning river.
Glancing down, I screamed. Waves swallowed up heavy chunks of concrete and steel. The bridge’s remains crumbled and sunk to the riverbed.
Another soldier ran over to help lift me to street level. After they dragged me up, I crawled on the ground next to them, gasping for air. My ringing ears muffled their voices. The woman who’d caught my arms said, “Holy shit. Are you okay? Are you injured?”
I sat up and checked my body to be sure. Shaken but uninjured. I realized my rifle had fallen into the river.
Another explosion sounded a few hundred meters away. The soldiers who’d saved my life hurried to their tank, climbed inside, and headed toward a pod that had just landed.
I still needed to reach the orphanage. This was bad. I knew war would be dangerous, but n
othing had prepared me for the chaos. The feeling of helplessness.
The rain picked up, and my boots splashed through puddles on wet pavement. Pausing, I stopped to catch my breath, surveying the area.
Spotting a wide, rectangular hotel with a circular tower, I sheltered under its pillared roundabout as I stole a final glance at the annihilated bridge.
Only one street away, my best choice was to run to the orphanage and get inside. Without a weapon, I was helpless if any Heavies were nearby. Here goes, I thought.
I sprinted into the rain-soaked road. Behind me, an explosion rattled my teeth. Debris showered down onto the avenue. The hotel I had just sheltered under took a direct hit. Running at top speed, I tried the glass doors leading into the orphanage.
Locked.
“Please, let me in!” I raised my arms, waving them back and forth.
Perez peered out of a window on the second floor. She looked relieved, but then her eyes shifted to something behind me, and her mouth contorted into an oval-shaped… Did she scream?
Everything turned black.
I woke to an ominous gray sky. Rain doused my face, and suddenly I remembered where I was—the falling bridge and attacking Heavies. The orphanage. My squad was in danger.
Wincing, I stood and shook dust from my body. A pod had landed in the street twenty meters away. Every instinct inside me screamed to run, but I approached the crashed aircraft instead.
The cobalt-blue metal looked warped by heat. Up close, the vessel was egg-shaped and rested in a small crater.
My flesh tingled.
The front of the pod had split open, and it was empty. The creature inside had escaped.
Somewhere.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, of pods had fallen, releasing aliens into the city.
I ran to the orphanage. Pounding on the door, I shouted, “Let me in. I’m here to help.”
But something yanked my leg, hard. I fell, banging my chin on asphalt. I felt a tightness around my ankle and was dragged down the road by my foot. Shifting onto my back, I saw a Heavy. One of its horrific arms pulled me toward it.
The massive alien towered over me by a meter. Cobalt-blue body armor covered its chest—same as the pod metal—six dark purple tentacles extended from its arthropod spine. Its round head held bulbous inky eyes that stared at me. Snarling, its mouth glistened with dagger-sharp teeth.
Altered: A Dystopian Sci-Fi Adventure (Rogue Spark Book 1) Page 9
