Rise | Book 3 | Reclamation

by Ford, Devon C.

  Jack pressed tinted goggles into each of their palms and told them to put them on. The metal stairs rang loudly as their hefty boots clanged over them, and after about forty steps, they found the exit. Jack opened the hatch, sending it to the side, and they climbed a few rungs to get outside their hidden facility.

  Alec had no idea what time of day it was and was surprised to find the sun high in the sky, the intense glow reflecting brightly off the snow. He followed Jack’s lead and stuck the goggles on, then lifted the hood over his head, which was already feeling the cold. The wind had an intense bite to it, and his forehead stung from the chill.

  Alec scanned the horizon, seeing the white buildings jutting from the ground. Their fleet was stored inside, along with the drone army. That was where they were headed now, walking slowly through the path carved into the white expanse.

  Beside the walkway, the snow stood up to his waist, and he peered behind him, seeing Izzy enjoying every moment of it. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she said.

  “Neither have I.” Alec had seen snow, a lot even during the bad winters in Detroit, but this? This was next level.

  Mountains loomed in the distance, entirely white-capped, and he stopped, Izzy bumping into him. He stared at the view, his eye lashes sticking as he blinked. “This is incredible.”

  She took his mitten-covered hand and squeezed it, pulling him in for a kiss. “We’re going to do it, Alec. We accomplished our goal in Spain, and now we can let the others do their parts. We’re going to stop this Occupation. Can you believe it?”

  He nodded, but deep down, he wasn’t as optimistic. Not really. There were too many moving pieces, and he felt stuck in Norway, with nowhere to go.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “After.”

  After.

  The word hadn’t crossed his mind much lately. He’d never assumed there would be an after, and while they’d been planning the uprising, he’d been too busy to give anything beyond that much thought. Standing here, staring at Izzy, he thought maybe there was a life for him outside of the Occupation, and it was almost as scary and daunting to consider.

  “You two lovebirds coming?” Jack called from some distance away. His voice carried on the wind, and Alec kissed Izzy again, their lips nearly sticking together. She was so beautiful, her dark hair peeking from behind the hood over her head.

  “We’re going to live, Izzy. We’re going to start over, and be part of something wonderful.” Alec let her take the lead, and he noticed a slight hop in her step as they caught up to the Barony leader. The structure was immense, covered in solar panels. They’d modified them to hide better in snow, and Jack claimed it would be difficult to spot them from above, unless the aliens were right on their asses.

  Jack pulled on the door, and it creaked open. “It wasn’t shut. Supposed to be locked.” He frowned behind the goggles, and Alec watched as the British leader pulled a 9MM from under his jacket.

  “Is something wrong?” Izzy asked.

  “Let’s hope not. Can’t be too careful.” Jack stepped inside, his weapon raised, and the other two stomped in after him, kicking snow from their boots. He turned to them and set a gloved finger on his lips. “Can you cut the racket?”

  “Sorry.” Alec peered around the massive warehouse facility. The walls were thin, lightweight tarp meant for cold climates, and they rustled as the wind blew against them. The entire place was constructed with a large wooden frame, the tarps cinched around each post. It was surprisingly warm inside, and that told Alec they’d done a great job sealing it.

  To their left were the three Overseer ships. Alec was still upset they’d lost the one in Spain, but Whittaker had taken to the Barony’s modifications to the pilot’s seat, and he’d managed to do a lot of the runs back and forth from France to here.

  There were rows and rows of the drones, at least a hundred Seekers, and nearly as many Trackers, each resting, and mostly charged. Jack hadn’t wanted to put too much of their solar energy into the robots, not when they charged from the sun themselves, so they had sent them into the wilderness twenty at a time over the last few days then powered them off, storing them here.

  “Where’s the control room?” Izzy asked quietly.

  Jack waved them deeper inside, and they listened for sounds of anything or anyone moving around. Two minutes later, Jack relaxed. “Prob just Daniel forgetting to shut it last time. No biggie.”

  They walked past the rows of robots, and Alec tried not to think about the firepower they had between them. The communication network had failed, but Jack’s localized system for his metal army was unlike anything the Reclaimers had seen. He claimed it was failsafe, and that the Overseers had no possible way to hack his system. Alec wasn’t as confident as Jack on the subject.

  The door was at the far end of the open room, and Jack punched a code on the lock. There were a few tall black towers inside, and they blinked and beeped softly in the dim room. “There’s the problem.” Jack pointed to the lead tower. “Someone unplugged the panel relay.” He flipped the loose wire. “Or cut it.” He showed the frayed wires to Alec.

  “Who?” Izzy asked, peering over Alec’s shoulder.

  Jack shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine, but this needs to be fixed now.” He pulled a two-way radio from his pocket, pressing the button on the side. “Daniel, come in.”

  “Go for Daniel.” He sounded nervous.

  “Bring Laurie with you and head over here. We have some damaged wiring that needs patched up,” Jack told him.

  “Straight away. Do we need security?” Daniel asked, his voice breaking and cracking over the radio speaker.

  “Wouldn’t hurt.” Jack shoved his radio into his pocket and walked past Alec. “What happened here?”

  Alec peered around, trying to get a sense of someone’s motivation and movements. “Is there another exit?”

  “Sure. Out back. We didn’t want a single way in and out… in case of a fire…”

  “Or a surprise attack,” Izzy said.

  “That too. It’s over here.” Jack walked through the room, his boots too loud to Alec’s ears. He almost expected an alien to pop out of the walls, but nothing met them as they found the other exit. It was closed; an eight-foot metal framed doorway.

  Alec depressed the lever, and the wind hit him, blistering over his face as it grew in intensity. He stepped out, and even with the current drifts, the evidence was clear. Someone had left on foot. Their tracks were half-covered, but they were there.

  “Damn it. Who in the bloody hell did this?” Jack asked, his accent even thicker.

  Izzy grabbed Alec, pulling him back in. “Does it matter?”

  “Of course…”

  “You know what this means, right?” Izzy stood still, her words dying in the wind.

  “They’re coming…” Alec looked to the sky, seeing clouds blowing in from the north where the ocean lay churning a few kilometers past the nearest ridge.

  “That’s right. They’ll be coming. But we’ll be ready for them.” Jack smiled, and somehow it did little to ease the stress in Alec’s spine.

  Fan

  The Reclaimers were coming tomorrow. At least Fan hoped they were. He didn’t know much about submarines, but he imagined the worst when he thought of a rusty old metal tube traveling below the surface for two weeks.

  If this was going to work, they needed to disrupt the vats of chemicals today, and Fan had never been so afraid in his life. It was obvious the Reclaimers had done what they’d promised by destroying the massive batch being sent to Spain then Africa as well as the USA. The aliens around the facility were livid about a week earlier, demanding the human crews work double shifts, ensuring more product was ready in a couple weeks.

  Fan hated seeing so many of them around, but today, they’d exact their revenge. He sat at his station, fiddling with the caps, his hands twitching and trembling in anticipation. Biyu woul
dn’t let him down, and somehow she’d managed to get Chan, the guard, on her side. He didn’t ask how, but with the anger of the aliens in the last week, the rest of the human workers were beginning to see the light.

  They knew what these devices did for the aliens, and he was glad to see their oppressors walking around for the past week in a state of panic. They were aggressive where they’d never been more than passive and uncaring about the humans around them. A few new ones had arrived, bigger, angrier than the previous leaders, and Fan was fully aware of what they’d do to him if he was caught.

  Fan stared at the window their supervisor Li stood behind, and the older man gave him a slight smile. A few of the workers had been filled in, because Fan needed their help. Biyu had worried Li would betray them, but the man had been only too eager to help. His words still echoed inside Fan’s mind as he waited for the signal from Li. Thank you, Fan. I’ve wanted to upset them for years, but couldn’t find the courage. You’ve found it for me.

  Two aliens walked through the room, eyeing the workers, and as they passed, heading the opposite direction of the vats, Li nodded at Fan. He rose, glancing up at the cameras in the corners of the wall. The lights were no longer blinking, meaning Chan had managed to disconnect them. With a tiny blade they had to pry sealed parts of the misters apart, he cut himself, his hand instantly welling with the blood.

  Others watched him walk through the room, clutching the bloody hand to his chest. It stung, but he didn’t care. He pretended he was going to the medical bay, but once he was in the corridors beyond the workspace, he pulled a swath of torn uniform, wrapping it tightly over his left palm. Some blood seeped through, but it would prevent a trail of red from incriminating him.

  Biyu was walking down the hall from the other direction, and she stared at a tablet, pushing a cart with supplies on it. He smiled as he saw her, short black hair, youthful face. He couldn’t have done any of this without her.

  She didn’t meet his gaze, only stopped, placing the cart near the entrance to the vat. An alarm rang out from inside, one Chan had been able to activate, telling the workers to flee from a gas leak. The noise was localized to the room, and soon, ten workers shuffled from the space, not bothering to glance at Biyu or Fan. They were walking dead. All of the workers were. Gone were their dreams of a different life. Any aspirations beyond food and sleep evaporated after years of labor as slaves to the alien race.

  Purpose filled Fan as he walked into the room where the chemicals mixed to form the vapor for the misters, as the Reclaimers had called them. Biyu appeared to be enjoying herself, and she ran quickly to the first massive stainless steel vat. Digital numbers flashed on a screen, and she used an access code they’d deciphered to change the ingredients. Something dumped inside, and the vat began to hiss and steam, before appearing normal.

  Fan did the same, and then on to the next until all five containers were corrupted. The alarm had stopped, and the other workers would be ordered to return at any moment. The door opened, and a drone floated inside. Fan and Biyu hugged the wall on opposite sides of the exit as the fist-sized robot entered, beeping and buzzing.

  It had no weapons, but it was recording what it saw. These drones were there to confirm air quality, and to move into small spaces for alien surveillance, at least that was what Chan had told Biyu. It proceeded to scan, and they raced through the door, the compact robot none the wiser.

  Biyu continued on, moving with confidence as she pushed the cart away. Fan jogged through the hall and knocked on the doctor’s door, being greeted by an old woman in a white lab coat. The alarm was quiet there, and it stopped as the drone found nothing dangerous in the room. He peered to the camera in the hall, seeing it was on once again. Li thought the aliens would just guess there had been a power fluctuation causing the disturbances, but Fan wasn’t so sure.

  At least they’d disturbed the current chemicals, and now all they had to do was wait for the others to arrive in a submarine. Fan was stitched up and sent back to work. He was so happy to act, he hardly noticed the pain.

  Chapter 25

  Cole

  Soares was worried, that much was obvious. The shipment was late. The two of them had spent long hours in one another’s company since they’d met, and the man’s non-verbal cues were as clear as day.

  He wanted to ask what was wrong, if there’d been a message about the others, if his brother was okay, or if Lina had checked in. He thought about the lack of an alien ship in the valley below their position instead.

  They’d prepared thoroughly, spending much of the previous night with Soares drilling the details of the plan into Cole’s head repeatedly until he recalled them better than his own name.

  Cole realized there was much to learn about Soares. He knew the captain in the way that his mannerisms and movements were so familiar to him, but not a great deal about the actual man.

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not coming,” he whispered to Soares.

  “No,” he responded flatly, “so we stay ready.”

  They did. They watched and waited and watched some more, but nothing about the activity surrounding the mine indicated anything other than business as usual.

  The nervous guards were heavily armed and acting a little jumpy, and Cole let his mind wander again to compare them to the kind of people he’d seen at the places he’d lived for the last months.

  These were low-level guards. If they were the biggest, the best, the strongest, they wouldn’t be out here in the middle of nowhere watching some mining drones chip minerals out of the ground. They’d be guarding the gateways. They’d be on ships hunting down humans in death squads. They’d be in charge of security at the facilities that still housed people.

  These contemplations helped to wind the clock and keep him alert during the wet day spent staring at the small area, but the added stress of having to be prepared to move at a moment’s notice was draining him.

  “What if the ship comes when it’s dark?” he asked, voicing his concern.

  “Then we board it in the dark,” Soares told him like it was no big thing.

  They didn’t exchange any other words for a few hours as both lay still. Cole checked the observation report from their Tracker drone every hour, but even the robot dog reported a boring lack of change.

  When the sun sank behind their position, Soares sighed and quietly gathered his gear, leaving the heavy backpack bomb until last. They trudged to the cave, separating to take care of their personal maintenance and enjoy a different kind of quiet solitude, reconvened by the fire that Soares was reviving.

  “You think something’s wrong?” Cole asked him. “Did they stop the shipments because of what’s happening everywhere else?”

  “Why would they?” Soares asked. “It’s their priority. It’s what the birdbrains are here for.”

  “But, the shipment…”

  “Didn’t happen today. There’s nothing to say it won't, though. Stick to the plan, kid.”

  Cole went quiet, eating a foil-wrapped meal without bothering to heat it up. It was fuel, nothing more. It wasn’t like the Tracker drone enjoyed soaking up the sunlight to recharge.

  As if reading his thoughts, Soares picked up the tablet beside him and tapped at the screen to send the reprogrammed drone out to the mouth of the cave to keep watch as they grabbed whatever sleep they could.

  Cole’s eyes went wide and his chest heaved. It took him a second to recall where he was, fighting against the constriction of the sleeping bag as he struggled free his arms and spill out into the cold, pre-dawn air of the cave.

  His senses all activated at once, overloading his brain with information he had to sort and file rapidly.

  Damp embers from the fire were extinguished by water being poured over it.

  The wind howled loudly outside.

  The low temperature coupled with the darkness told him it was technically still night.

  He struggled to his feet, leaving the abandoned sleeping bag and bed roll, picked up the shotgun
, and slung his pack over one shoulder. Soares was on one knee tapping furiously at his tablet, and before Cole could figure out what he was doing, the Tracker reappeared and fixed its eyeless gaze on him, returning to guard mode just as Soares gave it a verbal command.

  “Hold your fire unless absolutely necessary,” he instructed, fixing Cole’s eyes with his own to make sure the message was loud and clear. Cole nodded to him once, realizing that the howling wind wasn’t in fact the weather whipping up a storm outside, but was the screaming engines of a transport ship in the valley below.

  The vessel was finally there, either late or early, depending on how you looked at it, and they had to get onboard.

  They were assuming the shipment was for roughly the same amount of raw materials as before, and that meant they had a little under an hour before the loading was complete. An hour-long window was not as comfortable a margin as might be thought, given that they had to climb halfway down a massive hill while avoiding the roving patrols of Seeker drones. Not to mention avoiding the attention of the aliens, sneaking onto the ship, and doing all of this in predawn darkness.

  They moved, leaving most of their gear in the cave, and not for the first time, Cole resigned himself to the risk that they simply weren’t going to make it back.

  The pair ran, as fast and as carefully as they could, aiming for the middle section of the ship where the open rear ramp would be packed with mining drones dragging massive, heavy sacks and loading them.

  Three times they had to freeze, dropping low to the ground slowly. Eventually, they reached the level where the colossal hauler rested on multiple heavy landing struts. Cole and Soares crouched in cover entirely deafened by the scream of the resting engines now that they were up close.

  Soares grabbed Cole’s shoulder, half turning his body and pointing to their right where the line of the angular hull broke to show a door that folded out to act as a ramp.

  Cole nodded, heart racing and blood pumping so hard, it made a fast, rhythmic banging noise deep inside both ears. He tensed his body in preparation of sprinting for the door when the grip on his arm tightened. He spun, making out Soares’ face with a finger pressed against his lips, and turned to see the unnatural gait of a long-legged alien stalking past as it patrolled the outside of the loading ship.