“They’re not really his parents.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
“He might, now. Or maybe it’s just that we haven’t been dangling them as bait. Or both.”
Janet cocked her head sideways. “Both?”
“Maybe he knows they’re not his parents, but he still cares enough about them that he’d try to save them, or whatever.”
“You talk too much.”
“It could work.”
“How? We have no way of dangling any bait, short of parading Peter and Cynthia all over the country and banging pots together. We can’t exactly send the asset a message over Facebook, can we? Even assuming we could attract his attention, what makes you think Cynthia wouldn’t shriek at the top of her lungs for the asset to run in the other direction as fast as he could? And if she yells that, then so will Peter. He follows her lead.”
“Maybe the asset won’t listen to them, and he’ll come for them anyway. Or, we could gag Cynthia and Peter.”
Janet closed her eyes. “Just please shut up, Ethan.”
They continued combing the house. Janet felt grateful for the boots and rubber gloves she wore as she opened drawers and flipped up couch cushions.
I’m sure Ethan isn’t being as thorough as I am. He’s probably in there staring at Somerton’s posters again.
He would probably rib her if he noticed the sort of places she was looking. But many times in the past, her meticulous approach to everything had yielded results where others had failed. It was why she’d been selected for GDA, eleven years ago.
She found it inconvenient to have to consult Ethan on every major decision. But the men respected him, and took their cues from him, so showing him at least some respect was a necessary evil. He was already irritated about her taking the lead in interrogating the Edwards, and he kept asking about her methods, and why it was necessary any longer to keep them imprisoned.
Why was she still keeping them locked up?
The answer came hard on the question’s heels:
Because they defied me.
And because they might still prove useful. If she freed them, they might try to escape…though there weren’t many places those two could realistically go. Not if they were interested in surviving.
Still, the harshness with which she found herself treating the Edwards surprised even her. After the invasion had begun, she’d found herself taking drastic measures, without hesitation. It was as if her days as an interrogator had come rushing back to her—like she was pressuring Jihadis for information again, certain they held secrets that could save American lives, once dragged into the light.
She’d thought she’d left those days behind. But today, it was the survival of her entire species that depended on her ability to be as effective as possible. That was why she’d been willing to do the things she’d done, of course.
I will do whatever it takes to save humanity. That’s all there is to it.
She sat on the couch to check inside the wooden chest that seemed to serve as a coffee table. As she sifted through its contents, something made her glance to the left. Then, she saw it: a half-eaten banana, lying on the kitchen floor near a window. For a moment, everything else fell out of focus.
Slowly, she got to her feet and walked over to it. She picked it up.
Then, she winced. She’d been looking in the most obscure places for clues, when probably the best indicator of the asset’s location was right here.
The banana was unoxidized.
“They’re closeby,” she shouted.
Ethan emerged from doing God knew what in what must have been Avery Somerton’s room. He sprinted down the hall and into the kitchen, his gaze drawn to the banana.
“How do you know?”
“Look.”
He stared at the yellow fruit, blinking.
“It’s unoxidized, you idiot. That means it was peeled sometime within the last two hours. Moreover, it was lying on the floor, like it was dropped. I’m thinking they must have seen us coming and fled.”
Ethan nodded. “Right.” He turned and headed for the back exit. “I’ll have the men split into six-man units and scour the surrounding area—on foot, in the two Bradleys, and in the SUVs.”
“Tell them we’ll rendezvous at base camp at 2300, if the asset manages to evade us,” Janet called after him. “While they’re searching, they should focus on fields and paths. If Chambers has gone rogue, and he’s with the asset, then he’ll know to keep him off the roads.”
Ethan drew to a stop. “What about Chambers himself? How do we handle him?”
She only considered it for a moment. “If necessary…shoot to kill.”
16
7 days to extinction
They rode east.
“By now, Janet’s probably figured out I’m with you,” Chambers had said when he’d suggested they ride in that direction. “And it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to think she’ll anticipate our destination.”
Reflecting on the remark as he guided Yago around a shallow in the middle of the pasture they loped across, Max called, “If Janet expects me to go to Colorado, why doesn’t she just go there and wait for me to show up?”
Chambers glanced at him from Daisy’s back. Somehow, he managed to make it look like he’d been born on top of a horse, despite his claim he’d barely ridden. Max was having more trouble.
“A couple reasons. One, that would risk you getting ripped apart by berserkers on the way there. You’d be much safer locked up in the back of an M1126.”
“What’s that?” Jimmy asked.
Max spoke without looking at his friend. “Infantry carrier vehicle.”
Chambers nodded. “Two, Janet never considered General Andrews—the guy in charge of my organization, the GDA—the right person for the job. To her, it would be convenient if he just never showed up in Colorado at all. But she’ll settle for showing up with you under her protection. That would put her in a position to call the shots. At least, she’d have a lot of leverage”
As Chambers talked, Jimmy stared at Max with growing confusion. Then, his mouth fell open. “Wait. You’re the one they’re after?”
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Max exchanged glances with Chambers, who turned to focus on the ground ahead of his mare.
“But they came to my acreage,” Jimmy said.
Max joined Chambers in staring ahead, and saw that they’d almost come to a fence. “Let’s focus on getting clear of them.” He spotted a gate off to the left, and with some squeezing and a little kicking, he managed to point Yago at it. The others turned their steeds to follow with much less difficulty. “I’ll tell you what I know after we stop.”
Jimmy didn’t answer as he guided Ollie toward the gate with the ease of lifelong horsemanship. Once there, he hopped down to swing it open, and they all rode through. After that, Jimmy appeared lost in thought as they picked their way through an open, rocky field.
Max envied how naturally his friend handled the gelding. Either Yago wasn’t as well-trained as Jimmy had expected, or Max wasn’t handling him well. Probably the second one.
Riding bareback was harder than with a saddle, he knew. Maybe I should be a bit easier on myself. At least he was managing to turn Yago when he needed to, though sometimes it was at the last second.
It had crossed his mind to wonder if what the aliens were doing to humans might be affecting horses too—especially considering Yago’s savage attack on Bert back in the Somerton pasture.
But none of the horses showed any sign of erratic behavior now. Yago seemed to respond to Max’s poorly formed instructions about as well as could be expected, and Jimmy and Chambers were having great luck with their horses.
“That’s a riding stable,” Jimmy said, lifting a hand from Ollie’s mane to point at a property up ahead. “Dad knew the owner. We should stop there.”
Chambers shook his head. “It’s way too soon to think about stopping.”
“It would probably save us time, in the
long run. We can fit these beasts with some proper tack. Then we can get up to a gallop without you two popping off your horses’ backs.”
“Fine. But let’s make it quick.”
They followed Jimmy toward a long building with a curved roof, which turned out to be an indoor riding arena. Just inside and to the left was a locked door, which Jimmy wasted no time in booting open. The door was flimsy, and the frame came apart, taking the lock with it.
Inside was everything they needed—saddles, stirrups, bridles. Other pieces Max didn’t know the name for. Jimmy brought the horses inside and began fitting each one with a saddle, cinching the girth under their bellies to hold the seats in place. He said it would take less than ten minutes for him to outfit each horse, but even so, Max stood at the door the entire time, keeping a nervous watch on the road that ran in front of the stable.
Chambers disappeared as soon as Jimmy started, returning five minutes later bouncing a wire cutter in his hand. “In case we need to make our own gate through one of these fences.”
Something caught Max’s eye in the sky over Chambers’ shoulder. He gasped as his heart skipped a beat. “Get inside!”
Without hesitation, Chambers entered, pivoting so that the wall covered him.
They both peered out at the massive alien craft hovering slowly over the landscape, as though searching for something. Its movement was stately, majestic—and impossible. The laws of aerodynamics simply didn’t permit an object that large to move so slowly through the air. But it did it anyway.
“Do you think it’s looking for us?” Max asked.
Chambers stared out at the saucer, his lips a thin line. “No. If the aliens knew about you, you’d be dead already. That’s what I have to believe, anyway.”
Nevertheless, they waited until the craft was out of sight over the horizon before emerging into the open again.
When Max climbed on Yago—this time with the aid of an actual stirrup—he had to admit the whole experience seemed much improved. He had more stability, and once he squeezed the gelding’s sides with a shouted “Yah,” the reins made him a lot easier to control. He steered Yago after Daisy and Ollie, unable to keep himself from scanning the sky for signs of the alien ship that had passed them by.
At Chambers’ insistence, they continued to stay away from the roads, though it slowed them considerably. A lot of properties had fences, meaning they had to keep an eye out for where all the gates were, and whether they would have an exit once they reached the other side—or whether they would have to make one.
Max kept an eye on the roads, watching for the black Escalades that had pulled up to Jimmy’s house. A few crashed cars caught his eye, but that was all. He also saw a dead fox, and two dead humans. All three of the corpses looked like they’d been brutalized, but Max didn’t get close enough to see how.
Every now and then, he glanced south to check on the ship that still hung above Oklahoma City. It fired once while he was looking, incinerating who knew what. Whoever or whatever it was, Max now knew the ship’s target didn’t have a chance. From what he’d seen, if the ship hit you with its heat ray or whatever it was, that was it for you. Game over.
How long would it stay there, hovering? As long as it took for humanity to kill itself off? Or would the vessels go into cleanup mode once the population dropped below a certain level?
Maybe that’s what the other ship is watching for. Scanning the countryside, waiting for the optimal moment to strike.
The sound of an approaching motor cut through the evening stillness, and all thoughts of the invaders fled his mind.
“This way!” Chambers wheeled Daisy to the right, away from the sound and toward a large cornfield.
Max steered Yago to follow, glancing over his shoulder as he turned. Two black SUVs appeared, behind and to his left. One of them split off to speed down a perpendicular road. Probably aiming to cut them off.
He returned his attention to the cornfield ahead. It had a sturdy-looking fence surrounding it, made from squares of wire stretched between metal posts. Chambers was already jumping from Daisy’s back to open the gate and lead her into the field. He jumped on again as Yago and Ollie passed through.
“Ride,” he called.
Max squeezed Yago with his legs, and the horse surged forward, through the stalks of corn, which were short and stubby so early in the growing season. Ollie was close behind, and then Daisy.
He’d lost sight of the car that had broken off, but now it appeared once more, along the road to their right. Both SUVs were gaining on them.
The field ended abruptly with a gate that had been left open. They galloped through and onto a field that ran perpendicular to both roads—the cornfield they’d just left seemed part of the same property. A two-story farmhouse sat up ahead, with a veranda that wrapped all the way around it. Beyond it, a wall of tightly-packed hickory trees loomed. Max, Jimmy, and Chambers galloped their horses across the expanse of manicured grass that stretched between them and the farmhouse.
Unbidden, Yago dropped back behind Daisy and Ollie. Clearly, he sensed the danger, and as the herd’s new alpha, he wanted to put himself between it and the other horses.
Max glanced back in time to see the Escalade on their left accelerate enough to clear the ditch at the end of the road, its wheels coming down in the grass on the other side. To their right, the other Escalade was just reaching the farmhouse’s driveway. It roared across the lawn toward them.
Max squeezed his legs harder into Yago’s flanks, and the animal powered forward with great strides.
I’m going to get tossed off.
But he leaned as low as he could, clung to the pommel, and stabilized himself with his legs. Past Yago’s bobbing head, he saw that a rock wall bordered the property along the rear.
At the same moment he noticed it, Jimmy shouted. “There. See where the wall is crumbled? The horses can make that jump.”
“You’re insane,” Max yelled, straining his vocal cords to be heard.
“Sure, but they can make it all the same. We just need to convince them of that.”
“How?”
“Don’t let up on them. H’ya!” Jimmy dug his heels into Ollie, who somehow piled on even more speed.
The Escalades’ engines roared as they gained on the trio.
Max shook his head, then emulated Jimmy, booting Yago with the backs of his boots and flicking his neck with the rein as his friend was doing, but not nearly so deftly. “Yah!”
Jimmy reached the wall first. Ollie leapt, clearing it. Next was Daisy, who jumped over it too, but her rear right hoof clipped off the stone, and she whinnied sharply.
Max gave Yago one last boot for good measure, and the horse launched off his muscular hind legs. They sailed over the wall, finding only air, and then solid ground. The impact rattled Max’s teeth.
When he looked back, seven men were lined up at the fence, standing in front of the two SUVs. They had weapons drawn.
“Holy shit,” Max yelled. “They’re going to shoot!”
Chambers reacted first, ducking low in his saddle, pressing himself against Daisy’s back. Jimmy followed suit.
On a hunch, Max stayed upright.
No shots came. Then, he saw why, though his subconscious had clearly already figured it out: Chambers was directly ahead of him, blocked from the gunmen’s view by Max and Yago. They wouldn’t shoot Max, but if they got a clear shot on Chambers, they’d probably take it.
Then they were among the trees, barreling through the hickory way too quickly for safety. But they didn’t dare slow down.
As they charged through the forest, light leaked from the day, and shadows lengthened, shifting beneath the swaying canopy of leaves.
Chambers at last slowed his horse to a lope, then a trot, and Max and Jimmy slowed their horses too. When the agent halted Daisy, they halted Yago and Ollie.
They’d come to a stream. Wordlessly, Chambers dismounted and stepped into it, leading Daisy upstream through the shallow
water.
For a moment, Jimmy looked perplexed, but Max saw what Chambers was doing right away: masking their trail.
They continued through the water until twilight, and then they left it on the opposite side. A few minutes of riding, and Chambers stopped again.
“I’m going back to hide our tracks. Wait here.”
Fifteen minutes later, he returned, looking just as serious as before.
Jimmy nodded at him. “Any sign of them?”
“No. Looks like we shook them off, for now.”
With that, they made camp for the night, in a clearing with sturdy trees to tie the horses.
“No fire,” Chambers said.
17
7 days to extinction
Other than eating their supper cold—canned pork and beans for Max—lacking a fire wasn’t so bad. It was May going into June, and nighttime temperatures of 60°F were becoming common.
Sitting in the dark, able to see his companions only by their silhouettes, it felt about that warm now. Max was comfortable sitting on a fallen log in his shirtsleeves.
After evading Chambers’ colleagues, they’d looped back and were now finally headed west. Toward Colorado.
I’m going back. Max felt like he’d just the state.
But this time he was headed for the Rocky Mountains, not the academy. As for where in the Rockies, the agent had given him the coordinates, and he’d written them down in his phone, which had lost its network connection and was now nothing more than a high-tech notepad with a calculator built in. He had the thing on power-saving mode, but it would go dead eventually, so he made a mental note to memorize the coordinates.
It seemed odd that the aliens had kept the power grid up and running but not the cell network. He guessed they didn’t want anyone who was still sane to be able to coordinate with each other.
Chambers had said the secret installation they were headed for was down a dirt road, which was off another dirt road, partially concealed from a main road.
Jimmy had seemed checked out during that entire conversation—actually, he seemed checked out in general. He finished scraping out the bottom of his chunky beef vegetable soup, then rooted around in his backpack. Neither Chambers nor Max commented as he took out a Ziploc bag and pinched some of its contents into an object held in his left hand.
Mother Ship Page 9
