They drove for over an hour and his expectations were confirmed. The Chittrix was headed toward the main hive on Cardiff’s south side. Questions raced through his mind as he gunned the Coyote along the broken roads. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t know if they would see tomorrow, and somehow that made every minute with her even more precious.
But the world was such a dangerous place. His heart had stopped dead when she tagged the Chittrix and he didn’t know if he had it in him to deal with that level of risk to someone he cared about anymore. Not after Rachel and Lissy. But he could stay alert, keep Sarah safe. He could be useful to her that way. He white-knuckled the steering wheel, the resolve to protect her and keep her safe crystallizing diamond-hard in his mind.
Sarah shouted from the rear. “It’s stopped moving.”
Mabe wrenched the steering wheel and brought the Coyote to a screeching halt.
“Over there.” She pointed toward several apartment blocks. Blank windows reflected the stirring dawn light and alien plants sprouted from cracks in the wall, festooning the buildings like a crazed jungle.
Mabe exited the Coyote and jogged to the rear. He held out a hand for Sarah as he opened the rear doors. She stared at his hand for a split second and then a smile graced her lips and she accepted his help. Something new and fragile bloomed in his dusty heart. This he could do. Looking after her without distraction or complication.
She angled the wrist tracker as Sawyer, Foster, and Artem followed her out of the Coyote.
“Too quiet here.” Sawyer scrutinized the skyline with the nose of his pulse rifle. “I don’t like it. Aren’t we only about a mile from the main hive?”
Sarah nodded. “It was heading home.”
“Let’s stay nice and tight then.” Foster checked his weapon. “Artem, between me and Sawyer, no offense. Mabe, you’re on point with Sarah. Stick to her like glue.”
Like he needed telling.
They headed toward the apartments, Mabe’s heart rate escalating. Six blocks were arranged in a residential cluster with a large play area in the middle. All the entrance doors were busted, hanging off their hinges in a rotten stupor or just missing. The stairwells were dark voids that could hide anything. Every nerve in his body screamed to leave.
“Signal is coming from over there.” Sarah gestured across the playground, shielding her eyes against the sun.
There was all the usual small stuff for tiny children—slides, swings and a roundabout. He paused. Rachel had loved them. Fuck. He folded up the memory and tucked it away for safekeeping. Distraction would get him killed.
He took a route through the play equipment, wading through knee-high grass, disturbing agitated flurries of insects.
There were also bigger structures. Enormous concrete pipes used for drainage had been laid on the ground and covered in mud to create a small hillock with a dark tunnel underneath.
Mabe bent as Sawyer skirted the hill. He directed the beam of his rifle flashlight down the pipe, but it bounced off the walls, reflecting only aging concrete. He exhaled, wiping damp fingers across his mouth. Sweat pricked his scalp.
Sawyer clicked his fingers and Mabe turned. Movement. Behind one of the broken apartment doors.
Mabe raised a finger to Sarah and pointed to a spot on the ground. Stay right behind me.
He indicated for Foster to follow, heading toward Artem and Sawyer. The exposed skin on the back of his neck burned as he approached the apartment entrance using the circle of buildings on his right as meager protection. Mabe swallowed, not enough protection as far as he was concerned. He checked over his shoulder, relieved to see Sarah centered between the four of them, the safest place to be. “Are you picking up anything?”
She huffed a whispered sigh, frustration edging her voice. “Not sure. The signal’s fuzzy.”
“Sky’s clear.” Foster’s voice was a low murmur.
“I can’t give you a direction.” Sarah rotated the device, searching around them in a wide arc. “But we’re closing in. It has to be in one of the buildings.” She tapped her tablet. “Damn thing is fried. It’s making no sense.”
“I don’t like this.” Foster’s tone was strained.
Mabe lifted his hand, and the group halted as one. He slowed his breathing, but the only sounds around them were the muted creak of leather boots. “This is impossible.”
“Preaching to the converted,” Sawyer muttered in reply.
Ahead, the entrance to the nearest apartment block gaped, its ruined doorway sprouting a line of toadstools.
Mabe stabbed the frame. Spongy wood engulfed his weapon with no resistance. “It’s been like this for a long time.” The stench of soaked plaster assailed his nostrils. Jesus, it stank. He twitched his head as Sawyer joined him.
“Going in.” Sawyer’s weapon was high on his shoulder, his gaze intense under his baseball hat.
Mabe exhaled and swung low into the building, dropping to one knee. A concrete stairwell on the right, stained steps leading up to nowhere. On the far side, there was a fire escape door, the reinforced webbed glass still intact but obscured by grime. And between them, heaving in gasping jerks, the Chittrix.
It jolted its head from the concrete at his approach.
“Holy fuck,” Sawyer breathed.
Air moved and Sarah was kneeling next to him.
Every protective nerve in his body flared. “What the—”
She grasped his knee. “It’s okay” Her words were a whisper. “It’s nearly over.”
As she spoke, the Chittrix lowered its head to the concrete, wheezing a wet rattle.
“Shall we put it out of its misery?” Sawyer’s aim was locked on the alien, his pulse rifle snug against his cheek.
Sarah laid a restraining hand on his arm. “No. I need to see it die.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sawyer’s tone rose.
“No. Look at it.”
Fluid pooled across the concrete toward them.
Mabe pointed. “Spiracles on the abdomen are ruptured.”
“Consistent with the virus.” Sarah agreed.
“What the hell, guys?” Sawyer pulled a face of disgust.
“They breathe through their sides like ants,” Sarah explained. “The holes are seeping fluid suggesting massive internal injuries, it’s liquefying.”
A chittering cry sounded loud and clear behind them, bouncing off the faded concrete. Mabe’s gut clenched. More of them?
The dying Chittrix’s head whiplashed up and its jaw cracked open exposing its pointed teeth.
Foster crawled forward to Mabe. “We’ve got incoming. What the fuck is happening with this one?” He curled his lip. “Your virus?”
“Yes, the virus.” She looked at Mabe, her eyes wide, bright with tears. “I think it’s working.”
Another cry echoed from outside, followed by a replying scorch of lasers.
Foster ducked and ran back out into the blinding light. “I’m coming, you leggy fuckers.”
Sarah sprang to her feet. “Come on. We fight together.”
Wonder rocked him when she didn’t even hesitate. This woman had balls.
He caught her arm. “Stay close.”
26
Sarah dodged out into the light. After the gloom of the apartment hallway, she had to squint. God, it was bright. Mabe’s palm grazed her waist, and for a moment she almost pushed it away. There couldn’t be a future with him. Those days didn’t exist anymore, no matter how much she wanted them to. Like when he’d kissed her. God, that had been glorious. But that was all it was, a kiss, a brief interlude in this new terrible reality.
Sawyer stabbed with two fingers toward the sky. Black shadows circled above, calculating. Nausea rose in her throat. She counted at least six. “A hunting pack?”
Foster grunted. “Most likely. The injured one would have been broadcasting its location.”
“We have five minutes tops. We should make it back to the Coyote in that time. At least then we might have a fighting chance.
” Mabe pivoted on his long legs, his grasp on her waist tightening.
Foster blocked him. “Hear that?”
Sawyer scrubbed a hand across his face. “What now? We don’t have time for this. We need to go.”
“Wait. He’s right.” Sarah raised a hand. It was growing louder by the minute. “It’s an engine.”
Mabe frowned. “Scavengers?”
“No, I recognize the crappy backfire.” Icy fingers enveloped Sarah’s heart, digging deep. She took off, dodging Mabe’s grab for her arm, and sprinted into a cool corridor between two apartment blocks. The ground was spongy with emerald green moss, her footsteps muffled as she exited the other side.
A high chain-link fence rose behind the block, its base concealed by unruly grass that shimmered in the light breeze. Sarah swallowed. She’d heard the stories about the giant millipedes, although she’d been lucky enough so far not to encounter one. She squeezed through a gap in the fence and found herself on an overgrown footpath that edged the now empty main road. Foster followed her, cursing loudly, raising his weapon toward the approaching vehicle.
Sarah snagged the nose of his rifle. “No.” She pressed it down, her stomach lurching. The old jeep hurtling toward them had been quietly rusting in a garage at the rear of the WHO building from the beginning of the invasion. She’d used it herself for the odd trip out, but more in the early days when there were less Chittrix around and the noise hadn’t mattered so much. Not lately, when they were crawling out of every goddamn crack.
Diana was behind the wheel, waving violently.
Foster shifted from one foot to another, glancing to the sky and back again. “Jesus, she looks apoplectic.”
The jeep skidded to a halt several feet away and Diana jumped out, the engine still running. “Where is she?” she screamed, waving a pulse rifle above her head.
“Fucking hell, what kind of racket is she making?” Foster paced forward. “Keep it down.”
But Diana ignored his warning. She stormed right past him and stalked up to Sarah. Her eyes were bloodshot and spit marked her chin. Diana never cried. Not even when people died. She stabbed Sarah in the chest with one bony finger. “Where is she?”
“Hey.” Mabe seized Diana’s hand, but she spat at him and tore free.
“Get your filthy hands off me.”
Sarah stifled a moan, cupping her hand to her mouth. The jeep was empty. “Where’s Riley?” Her words scratched at her throat.
“You tell me, bitch.” Spittle flew from Diana’s lips.
Foster’s worried face appeared at Diana’s shoulder. “She’s not with you?”
“No.” Diana pivoted, her gaze accusing them all. “Are you all fucking stupid?”
Sickening weight plummeted through Sarah’s stomach. If Riley wasn’t with Diana, where was she?
Diana stepped up to Foster, jabbing his chest. “You. You’ve been hanging around her like a—” Her mouth screwed up in distaste.
“Fucking spit it out, woman,” Foster bellowed.
Diana lunged for him, screaming, her hands clawing at his face, scoring a crimson line down his cheek.
“Diana.” Sarah threw herself between her boss and the soldier. “What the hell are you doing? Riley isn’t with us. We left her with you.”
Diana’s face twisted with grief. “No.” She groaned, her fingers tearing at her cheeks, her shoulders buckling under an avalanche of distress. “She’s gone. I don’t know where she is.” Her hands twisted together.
Foster paled. “The weapons storage unit.” He twisted and sprinted away.
Diana stumbled forward; her face painted with confusion. “Where the hell is he going? I’ve not finished with him yet.”
Sarah pushed past Artem. “He’s heading for the Coyote.”
“The weapons storage unit was out of place when we left. Foster secured it because it was open.” Realization washed over Mabe’s face. “Shit.” He bolted like a rocket, running low across the exposed expanse of the playground as the sky continued to darken with Chittrix above.
Diana was instantly on his heels, Sarah only a step behind. God, let her be all right. Her stomach contracted into a hot, angry ball. Riley might have suffocated. How had she not noticed anything in the Coyote?
Foster reached the TSV first, jumping inside in one leap, the vehicle pitching under the weight of his body. Dark outlines raced across the ground ahead of Sarah, too close. She stared straight ahead, not daring to look up. Adrenaline spiked through her system, and her muscles ramped up another fifty percent out of thin air. She was not going to die before she made it to the TSV.
Foster burst out of the back and landed in a deep bend, Riley bundled in his arms. Her head bounced. Dead? Sarah’s heart stalled.
No.
The world shrank, and then Foster tipped Riley onto her feet, and her small head snapped upright. God, she was alive. He locked his hand around Riley’s and ran, his stride so long; her small feet skimmed the ground as they hurtled toward Diana.
He was going to make it—a few more seconds.
Shadows coalesced and cool air swept over Sarah.
Time had run out.
27
Mabe ducked low, his legs eating up the ground, fueled by sheer adrenaline. The Chittrix pack had split, one segment rising, preparing to dive. The second barreled low, corralling the prey, their large wings creating an evil back draft that swept dust into his eyes and obscured his vision.
Where’s Sarah?
He could barely see his fingertips. She’d been there a second ago, the bleached red of her t-shirt visible as she tracked Diana out to the Coyote. Air kissed the back of his neck and he threw himself to the ground, his teeth connecting in a bloodletting snap. He rolled onto his back, his handgun straight in front of him as air punched from his lungs. Barbed claws stretched for him, missing him by a whisker.
Mabe fired at the Chittrix, punching holes in its underbelly, ducking as its tail cracked forward, biting dirt inches from his head. He rolled, gasping. That tail was too fucking close. He lurched to his knees, digging his knuckles into the dirt to piston himself back to standing, searching the murky vortex for Sarah.
Where the fuck was she?
The Coyote loomed out of the dust storm, the six wheels churning dirt. Sarah was ahead of him, clipping Diana’s heels. Beyond them, Foster had Riley. A few more steps and Riley embraced her mother, their faces distorted by the choking storm. Foster rounded behind them, his arms spread wide, herding them toward cover.
Everything in Mabe stilled, the world slowing as if sunk in setting glass. The distance to safety was too far. The Chittrix were rapid, too lethal.
As if in confirmation, darkness overtook him as a Chittrix swooped low, sharp feet spread wide to snag Riley and Diana, its talons flexed.
Foster clocked the deadly threat and threw himself at Riley, steamrolling her slight frame under his body, away from the Chittrix. Diana swung right, her arms wind milling, and the Chittrix snagged her, its claws digging deep in a scarlet bloom, as it wrenched her flailing form against its underbelly.
No. Mabe sighted the Chittrix with his rifle, but Diana was in the way, her pale face an oval of agony. He blinked sweat from his eyes as Diana wavered in and out of focus.
Now.
Blue power surged from his weapon, lighting up the sky and Diana tumbled free, her arms spread wide as if she was some crazed insect tossed from the sky.
Less than twenty feet. Mabe raced, tracking her. She’d live from this height. He stretched his arms out, bracing himself for impact.
The back draft knocked him flat as a second Chittrix snatched Diana clean out the air. Her head snapped and her body went instantly limp. Another second and the Chittrix powered up into a low-lying cloud.
“No!” Riley screamed.
Mabe dragged himself up on to his hands and knees and wiped blood from his mouth. Several feet away, Foster held Riley, his eyes shut tight, restraining her as she fought to escape the safety of his arms.
Foster’s eyes snapped open at Mabe’s voice. He scooped the thrashing Riley up and followed Sawyer and Artem as they sprinted across the dead grass to the meager safety of a bike shelter.
Sarah?
She was kneeling a short distance away, her arms limp by her side, her head tilted in defeat. Something stirred within him. Not yet.
“Sarah!”
She turned at his voice, but her tear-stained face was blank and uncomprehending. Shock. He’d seen it so many times.
Mabe lurched toward her, turning a blind eye to the two Chittrix circling his head like vultures. His legs wavered, his muscles were done. He had nothing left. If this didn’t work, they were all dead anyway.
The Chittrix plummeted out of the sky, and for a second relief pulsed through him. They swooped into the lower section of the apartment block where the infected Chittrix lay dying. Seconds later, they exited, excitedly calling, their dying hive member suspended between them. The three rose in a ragged rhythm into the sky, their wings a dark blur.
Mabe reached Sarah and pulled her into her arms, inhaling her scent.
She was alive, but she pushed against his chest, her face streaked with grimy tears. “It’s all over.”
28
Sarah staggered away from Mabe as the clash of the injured Chittrix faded. Diana couldn’t be dead.
She dropped her hands to her side. Science. Her degrees. Everything she’d learned since the Chittrix had infested the planet. All of it was useless. Diana was gone. Diana had pissed her off from day one, but she had pushed her to work. Without Diana there would have been no genetic modification. No scorpion virus.
Her face was wet when she wiped at her eyes, crisscrossed with tears she hadn’t even known she was crying. She pushed loose hair from her forehead and took a deep breath as she tightened her grip on her pulse rifle and the hubbub of the world came crashing back. When she turned around, Mabe was waiting for her, his face darkened by battle. The fragile world she’d constructed was shattering, and she had no idea how to hold it together.
Mabe (Earth Resistance Book 5) Page 14
