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.
Overton fumbled for his final magazine. “Changing!” he yelled.
Bouma jumped to a single knee and squeezed off a volley of covering fire.
The Steam Beast let out a voracious scream and smashed the side of its head into the back of the train. Glass rained down on Sophie as the creature continued its attack, trying desperately to squeeze its head inside the car.
Within seconds it had used its beak to rip off the back door and was working on wiggling its head inside the twisted metal.
“Move!” Overton yelled. He twisted his helmet and Sophie locked eyes with him through their visors. For the first time since the invasion, she saw true terror in the marine’s eyes.
Grabbing Jeff’s hand, she pulled him away from the slobbering beast as it pried the metal back. She paused to watch the Spiders as they climbed onto the car. Their claws dug into the roof above them, enough to send Jeff scrambling.
The boy tugged on Sophie’s hand and started pulling her away. “Got to go!” he yelled.
Sophie ran as she looked behind her at Overton and Bouma firing off their final rounds. She focused on an object that Bouma had pulled from his pack.
When Jeff and Sophie reached the door to the next car, she focused on the object. It was a grenade, but not an electromagnetic grenade. This looked like one of the old-fashioned ones that she’d seen on Overton’s belt earlier. But those wouldn’t work, would they?
Bouma’s voice bled over the channel.“Overton!”
He glanced over at the other marine and focused on the black baseball-sized object. With a nod, Overton pushed himself to his feet and grabbed Bouma under the arm.
“Got to move, got to move!” Overton said. Twisting in Sophie’s direction he pointed over her shoulder and yelled, “Get into the next car.”
Paralyzed with fear, Sophie let Jeff pull her through the open door. The marines caught up a second later. Sophie’s gaze instantly narrowed in on Bouma’s empty hands. She hardly had enough time to comprehend what had happened when the blast from the grenade tore through the other end of the car.
Without thinking she dove and tackled Jeff onto the ground, shielding him from the shrapnel and scorching heat of the grenade. Bouma and Overton hit the deck next to her, and then immediately bounced back to their feet.
Bouma reached down and grabbed her under the arms, pulling her away from the fire and smoke flickering out of the ruined cabin behind them. Overton latched onto Jeff and swept the boy into his arms.
Sophie felt a wave of relief when she saw the full extent of the destruction they were leaving behind. There was no sign of the Steam Beast or the Spiders now, only the twisted metal left by the grenade that protruded from the train like the teeth from a hungry animal.
The ringing from the blast still echoed in her helmet, as Bouma dragged her across the floor.
When they got to the third car, the marine helped her to her feet and smacked the side of her helmet.
“Sophie, are you with me?” Bouma asked, tapping his finger on her visor.
She nodded and blinked away the stars. Risking one more glance over her shoulder, she followed Jeff and the marines into the darkness.
* * *
The vibrations had ceased, and the Organics’ shrieks had vanished. The grenade had cut the aliens off, bringing down half the tunnel on the horde. But that didn’t mean they were in the clear yet. And Sophie knew it was mostly her fault. After all, she had ordered the team underground when Overton had argued it would be safer to move through the city. In the end he was right. The tunnels were narrow coffins with limited escape routes. They weren’t even safe from the Steam Beasts.
Sergeant Overton paused a few feet ahead and stared into the darkness. “We’re pretty far off course. My HUD shows we backtracked a mile. Take five. I’ll try to find an alternate route.”
Letting go of Jeff’s hand, Sophie slid off her helmet and grabbed her water bottle. With two large gulps, she drank half the bottle. She felt a tug on her armored wrist and looked down to see the boy staring up at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, offering him a drink.
“I think I found a route. But not through the tunnels. We need to hit the blacktop,” Overton said, pointing upward.
Sophie knew Overton expected opposition, especially since she had ordered them to use the tunnels. But he was right this time; if they were off course and a horde of Spiders was hunting them, then heading above ground might be their only option. She was not too proud to admit that she had been wrong.
Sophie glanced at her mission clock, and then reattached the bottle to her belt and grabbed Jeff’s hand. “Lead the way.”
Overton nodded and led them down another s
eries of passages until they got to a platform. A fading sign hung off the side of the concrete wall.
E19
Overton shot a hand signal, and Bouma climbed onto the platform. He reached down for Sophie’s hand first and hoisted her onto the ledge. Then he reached back down for Jeff. Once they were up, Overton checked both tunnels for contacts before pulling himself onto the concrete stage.
They advanced up the stairs cautiously, Bouma taking point. Halfway up, they saw the first hints of the afternoon sun bleeding through the station windows.
With a blink, Sophie clicked off her night vision. As her eyes began to adjust to the natural light, she saw the floor was littered with trash and abandoned bags. Her eyes fell on a single article of clothing, a hat with the New York Yankees logo.
Sophie smiled. Her father had worn one every time he mowed their yard when she was a girl. Reaching down, she swiped the hat off the ground to find it was covered in some sort of goo.
“What’s that smell?” Jeff asked. He moved away from Sophie toward the piles of trash.
Strands of Organic gore webbed off the hat as she flipped it over. “Ugh!” she cried, tossing it toward one of the trash heaps. As she watched the hat slide across the floor she realized the mounds weren’t trash at all. They were the remains of orbs.
Dozens of them.
Overton saw them at the same time.
Everyone froze but Sophie. She stepped over to one of the popped spheres. It looked like a deflated balloon. They had been here a while. And without a helmet, Jeff was probably smelling the rot.
“We need to keep moving,” Overton said.
Sophie looked back at Jeff, who was covering his nose with his sleeve. There was something about him that looked different. His matted hair was longer and his chin a bit more pronounced. He looked much older than he had just a few weeks ago.
“Come on,” Sophie said, motioning Jeff forward. Before she followed the marines out of the building she checked the stairs. Through the darkness she thought she saw the hint of blue light.
Orbs II: Stranded Page 22
