Occupation: A Post-Apocalyptic Alien Invasion Thriller (Rise Book 1)

by Nathan Hystad

  He backed up and turned around, waiting for the next side road to hit and head north again. He didn’t know where the Roamers were going, but this was going to be a difficult hunt. Dex knew he had to catch them before the others did.

  The sky was fully black by the time he crossed the Indiana state lines. An old faded blue sign remained, and he slowed to read the slogan. “Indiana. Crossroads of America,” he muttered. The saying felt prophetic, like it was a physical sign for his own life. His own existence was at a crossroads, and he didn’t know which way to turn.

  “Then don’t turn,” he told himself. “Keep driving straight.”

  The moon was high in the sky when he neared Lafayette. He’d been everywhere, and this city was as idyllic as they came for middle America. It remained in one piece, undamaged by the incursion or the brief retaliation that humans had mustered up before being cowed into slavery. There was no Occupation nearby, at least not for fifty miles or so, but he knew there were Seekers in the area. He imagined if he turned the car off and stood outside for long enough, he’d hear the whine of the drones overhead.

  He decided to stop for the night and think through his path for tomorrow. There was a place he’d stayed once a few years ago, and he always promised himself he’d return if he was in the area.

  “You’re in the area now, Dex.” He pressed the stereo off and cruised toward his destination. He turned off the freeway and headed into the country club estates. The houses were massive, grand palatial mansions for the elite and wealthy. Many of them backed onto the private golf course, and he pulled up to one with a rusted old Mercedes parked in the driveway.

  So many nice cars and houses all gone to hell. Even if there was a way to get their world back, they’d have to start from scratch. Humanity had been through so much, Dex wasn’t sure it would ever be able to recover.

  He hopped out and pulled his pack from the backseat. He took the files with him and headed for the house’s entrance. It was the same home he’d hidden out in a few years ago, and he’d cleaned it up to feel like it was his own little oasis.

  He entered, saw the familiar setup, and smiled. Tonight, he’d sleep on a king-sized bed. He set the bag on the oak floors and headed upstairs, his gun pulled. There was even more water damage than the last time he’d been there, but the master bedroom was on the main level, and when he checked it, the room was clear and clean, free from mold.

  Exhaustion ran through his body, but he headed out to the deck anyway, which was made of composite wood. Only someone really rich could afford a deck of this size made from the material, and it held up still, even after all those hard years of rain and snow. The moon lit the golf course beyond, and it was a wild patch of greenery now. He imagined playing golf on it now and laughed. When was the last time anyone had played?

  He lit up a smoke and sat in a cedar Adirondack chair after testing its strength. The end of the cigarette burned hotly with each inhale, and he closed his eyes, hearing crickets chirping their mating song in the night. So much of Earth had continued.

  “Lucky bastards,” he muttered, and tossed the butt to the empty pool beyond the deck.

  He was about to head inside when he heard car doors being shut. Had one of the Hunters followed him there?

  Dex came alert in an instant, his tiredness pushed away for the moment, and gripped his Glock in his right hand. He slid off the chair and kept silent as voices carried over to him. One male, one female.

  He walked along the edge of the deck and climbed off to the thick brush on the ground, making his way around the house. Dex stopped and peered around the corner of the stone façade exterior toward the driveway. There was a man inside a rusted-out car. The engine rumbled and clanged loudly.

  Dex stayed low and walked around the neighbor’s hedges, which were huge and unruly. He saw the man and woman at the front door. She held a pistol and the guy a shotgun. They definitely weren’t Hunters, at least not his type.

  They must have heard his car and decided to investigate. He saw it now. The woman was missing her left hand. The man had a handkerchief wrapped on his wrist. Self-surgery. These were Roamers. Part of him wanted to grab his car and take off, leaving them behind, but it was his job to bring people like this in. Plus, his stuff was inside, and he wasn’t leaving without his pack.

  He snuck up behind the running car where the driver’s window was open. He raised his gun, stepping up to the man, pointing his gun directly at his head. “Turn it off.”

  The man was older, at least sixty, so skinny his eyes looked like they were about to explode. “What the…”

  “I said turn the damn car off!” Dex said through clenched teeth.

  Instead of listening, the man reached across to the passenger seat and grabbed something while pushing on the horn with a stump. It blared and Dex pulled the trigger. The driver didn’t stand a chance. Dex stepped away from the gore and shuddered. The other two would be coming. He rushed toward the house and stood with his back against the garage door where they couldn’t see him from inside.

  “What are you honking about?” the man’s voice asked, and Dex heard his boots stomping down the front steps. He passed by Dex’s hiding spot, his shotgun coming to chest level when he saw his slumped over friend.

  Dex considered trying to convince the man to drop it, but after the driver’s reaction, he doubted it would work. These people were desperate. They’d kill him in a heartbeat, and he wasn’t about to be executed by the likes of them. He lifted the Glock, aimed, and pulled the trigger. One shot to the back of the man’s head, and he crumpled, his shotgun clattered to the driveway.

  “Baby! What…” the woman’s voice cried now, and he heard two gunshots come from the front door. He wasn’t sure who she was shooting at, but her target appeared to be a birch tree.

  Dex closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He told himself there was no choice, but as he looked at the two dead bodies, guilt racked through him. This was their world. Humans killing humans. The damned Overseers didn’t even have to do anything.

  He didn’t want to play the game any longer. “Put the weapon down and you can leave alive!” he shouted.

  The gunfire ceased, and the woman whimpered something.

  “Put it down, throw it where I can see it!” he shouted. Seconds later, the pistol clanged to the ground ten yards from him on the driveway.

  “I’m coming out!” she said. “Just let me leave!”

  “Arms up!” Dex stepped away from the garage doors and pointed the gun toward the door. The woman must have had a second gun, and she pulled the trigger before both his feet were planted. He saw the look of malice and hatred spread across her pale face as she snarled and fired again, hitting him in the arm. He braced himself and shot. The bullet struck the woman in the chest, and he fired again, this time hitting her in the neck. She fell to the ground in a heap, and Dex stumbled, patting himself in the stomach and chest.

  He scanned around, making sure there were no more than the three of them, and gathered all the weapons. His arm was bleeding, and aching, but it was bearable. A quick search through the car found a few more weapons, some food and water, and gasoline. He took everything, curious where they had found useable gas, and headed inside to survey the damage.

  “You really gotta be more careful, Dex,” he told himself as he pulled his leather jacket off. The bullet had torn right through his upper arm, and he was grateful to see the exit wound. It still hurt like hell. He pulled out his first aid kit and got to work. A matter of minutes and a drink from a whiskey bottle later, he was feeling a little better about his situation.

  He couldn’t stay there. If those Roamers had friends, they might be expecting them to return. Dex wasn’t going to be there when the reinforcements arrived. He gathered all his things, and with a quick glance to the king-sized bed, he left the house.

  Dex avoided looking at the dead bodies, slid into his car, and drove away, the exhaustion all but forgotten.

  Chapter 22

 
Alec

  The wind blew as they raced down the side road. They were wearing beige clothing to hide against the gravel, and Alec was surprised by how quiet the electric bike was. Monet sat on the seat, and he stood on pegs jutting from the rear frame, each of them carrying packs of supplies.

  They were making good time, but Alec couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched from above. Still, he couldn’t see any signs of Seekers.

  “How much farther?” he asked as the sun rose in the sky.

  Monet craned her neck to the side. “Not far,” she answered, and she was right. Ten minutes later, she cut into a ditch, hugging the tree line as expertly as the bike allowed, and stopped short of an intersection before getting off.

  They’d passed numerous small towns and cities over the last couple days, and now they came faster as the bike rolled along. Monet told him they’d need to charge it soon. Apparently, the electric bike wasn’t the most efficient way to cross long distances, and they decided to stop as they hit the next town.

  The lake came into view as they entered the town limits atop an elevated spot on the highway, and they kept moving. Monet cut the motor and the gentle hum ceased, while she started to pedal the bike. They passed a large correctional facility on the right, and Alec wondered how many people had been left to die behind cages during the incursion. Probably thousands, or even hundreds of thousands.

  Monet risked riding in the center of the street for a moment as she crossed the road before chuffing along under the awnings of an old town main street. Alec had heard of places similar to this, but he’d never seen anything quite like it.

  He watched everything with wide eyes as Monet carried them to an inn. She scanned the entire area as she parked the bike alongside the stucco-sided structure, and Alec listened for signs of Seekers.

  “If you see anyone, call for me.” She pulled his gun from the holster she’d loaned him and pressed it into his hand. “Otherwise, you point and shoot if things get dicey.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked nervously.

  “Nowhere. I’m making sure it’s vacant, then we’ll settle in for the night.” Monet left him standing beside the building as she climbed a flight of stairs to the second level where a line of doors sat. It reminded him a bit of their compound back in Detroit.

  He eyed the glass doors beside him and tested the entry. It released and he decided it might be better to go inside than stay out in the open where someone or something might spot him. Plants had begun to creep indoors, and he was surprised to find weeds growing through a crack in the inn office’s floor.

  There was a vending machine, a colorful red image showing a refreshing beverage painted on the front, and Alec walked over to it. He tapped a button, and nothing happened. Whatever was inside would be long expired anyway.

  He glanced at the front desk and saw a skeleton sprawled out on the floor. He tried to not let the sight affect him, but he still turned his head away quickly and decided maybe outside was better for him.

  Monet moved towards him, and she frowned as she peered inside the area he’d emerged from. “Don’t be too curious. You know what they say about cats and curiosity.”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he admitted.

  “Of course you don’t. Come on. I’ve cleared out a room.” Monet had a blanket in her hand, and she draped it on the electric bike before plugging it into the solar device she’d brought along. Seconds later, she was leading Alec up the stairs and into the cramped quarters. It was dry, and the bedding had holes in it, but he wasn’t about to complain.

  Monet sat on one of the beds and he took the other, facing her. “Tomorrow we arrive at their hub.” She pulled out a folded map and ran a finger across it, showing him their location and how far away the hub warehouse was. It didn’t look very far on the paper, until she unfolded it, showing him where McCook, Nebraska was.

  He let out a low whistle. “And just how to you plan on getting us there?”

  “Simple. We get to the warehouse, sneak onto a truck heading for Omaha, where they have a farming warehouse, and jump off there. After that, we’ll have to be inventive.” Monet made it sound easy, and her confidence was inspiring, but Alec couldn’t imagine the effort it was going to take to make all of that happen.

  “What’s in McCook?” he asked.

  “Directions,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “To the Reclaimers’ home base. It’s time, and they’re finally calling us all in,” Monet said.

  “You’re saying you’ve never even seen it?” he barked.

  “Seen what?”

  “The Reclaimers’ base. If they even exist.” Alec couldn’t believe his ears. He’d put all his faith in this woman and here she was telling him she’d never even seen their end goal, let alone know where it was.

  “You don’t think they exist? Where do you think the band you have scrambling your ID came from? You have a gun in your hand. Did that just appear there? The bike, the food. Come on, Alec. I know you’ve had the wool over your eyes for your whole life, but it’s time to step into the light. The Reclaimers exist, and we have something with us that will help win the coming war.” Monet’s words were hard but quiet at the same time.

  She made all good points, but Alec couldn’t bring himself to have as much faith in something as intangible as a group he’d never seen or heard of until now. “I won’t question it again.”

  “Good.”

  “Now how about another game of poker? I think I can take you this time,” he said.

  “Sure. Why not.” Monet stood up and peeked through the drapes before closing them again. It was getting dark out, and the room was hot.

  “Do you mind if I open the window a bit?” Alec asked, and she said it was fine as long as they kept their volume low.

  Several hours later, fed and tired, he lay on the bed, feeling the summer’s cooling night air blow through the room, and he heard a sound he wasn’t familiar with. It grew louder, and he sat upright. Monet, who a moment before had been gently snoring, was on her feet, gun in hand. She raised a finger to her lips and walked to the window, where she peeked out. Alec remained at her side, trying to get a view of the sound’s source, and there it was.

  A car, black as midnight, slowed as it drove down the road near the inn they were camping out in. He saw the driver turn his head, scanning the grounds, before facing forward again and stepping on the gas. The engine revved and the tires squealed as the car raced away, farther on the road until they couldn’t hear it any longer.

  “Who was that?” Alec asked, his breath quick and unnatural.

  “Something I was hoping to avoid at all costs. That was a Hunter.”

  Alec had fallen asleep while Monet sat by the window, holding her gun the entire time. She was still there when he woke to light rays creeping through the crack in the drapes.

  She was dozing softly, and he glanced at the gun, unsure of how to wake the armed woman. He decided rolling off the bed quietly and hiding behind the cover of the mattress was the best bet.

  “Good morning, Monet,” he said as naturally as he could. He heard her shift around.

  “Morning. Quite the watch guard I am. Falling asleep on duty. Don’t tell anyone,” she said with a wink.

  Alec wasn’t sure who he’d be ratting her out to, so he just shrugged.

  “Did you hear the car again?” Alec asked.

  “Nothing. Quiet as a grave. Sleep okay?” she asked, and Alec stretched, feeling some muscles pop. He was a little sore but felt well rested.

  “I’m good.”

  “Then we have a bite, and we get moving.” Monet stripped her tank top off, with her back turned to him, and Alec averted his gaze.

  Minutes later, they were down on the ground level and Monet pulled the blanket off the electric bike before checking the charge. “We should be there in two hours. We’re going to have to walk the last five miles.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because tha
t’s their radius. The Seekers have a program to keep them within five miles of any worksite, factory, or warehouse.” This was news to Alec. He felt much better about their odds knowing there weren’t many of them out actively searching.

  “What about these Trackers?” he asked.

  “They’re out here. There’ll be more Seekers too. We’ve run away. There was a death, and they might realize we stole something from them. If they know what we have on that device, they’ll destroy cities before they let the Reclaimers get it.” Monet started the bike, and Alec assumed his position on the pegs behind her.

  It was all too much for him. He’d always wanted to escape, to live on his own with Beth outside the confinement of the Occupation, but not like this.

  But a part of him was thrilled at the idea he could help stop them from reaching their goals. For the first time in ever, a sliver of hope welled in his chest, fueled by the possibilities of what could be.

  “Then we’d better stay hidden,” he said firmly.

  She nodded in front of him and started forward on the bike, pedaling at first before letting the electric motor take control.

  The day was overcast and felt better for it. Rain spluttered on them in fat lazy drops. He didn’t see any Seekers, and he scanned the fields, keeping a lookout for anything shiny that might resemble a Tracker.

  Two or so hours later, Monet slowed, urging them out of a ditch and into an old half fallen barn. “This is where we stop.” She pointed to the west. “We walk the rest of the way. Alec. This is going to be hard. The hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, and that’s saying a lot after being a slave and worker for most of your life. Keep your eyes open and stay behind me if anything goes down. Got it?” she asked, staring hard into his eyes.

  “Got it,” he said, but most of him really didn’t comprehend what she was saying. He couldn’t fathom what they were walking into. No matter how hard he tried, he could only picture the complex they’d broken out of.

  Alec consumed more water and relieved himself out behind the barn before they started forward, entering into a copse of trees. The terrain was flat, but the grass was wet from the recent rain, and he was soaked within minutes of their trek.