Anna was poking at something with a glass pipette. Likely it had many legs or at least, it used to before Anna dissected it. Julia didn’t want to know. She was happy to leave Anna to her fascination with growing armor from insects.
“I’ve got the chitin to take.” Anna snapped upright, waving the pipette excitedly in front of her face. “I’ve been struggling to get the correct temperature and humidity. None of the original tech here was precise enough.”
She pointed to a slender silver lozenge at the base of the tank that was connected to a laptop by a jumble of delicate rainbow wires. A red digital readout next to the lozenge echoed the numbers scrolling on the screen of Anna’s laptop.
Anna grinned. “Garrick found it for me.”
“Really?”
“Yup. It uses silicon-tipped fiber optics to control temperature variations in fractions of a second. Now that I’ve got the temperature right, I’ve finally got the chitin to start growing.”
Julia rolled her eyes. “So romantic.”
Anna stuck out her tongue before peering back into her glass tank. “Just because you’re a total cynic, doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the romance in everyone else’s life.”
Julia had never seen Anna happier than she’d been the last few months with Garrick. Sometimes Julia thought about the two of them and wondered if she was missing something, but then she reminded herself how neither she nor Sawyer wanted anything more, and that what they had worked perfectly fine. She was happy for Anna, but commitment was overrated.
Julia’s tone was dry. “Right.” She wandered to the back of the room where a desktop computer had gone to sleep, its screen a viral swirl of mauve and green like the double helix of a DNA strand. She tapped one of the keys, and it hummed into life. A close-up image of a Chittrix mandible blinked into view, so close the tiny hairs on the serrated cutting-edge of the pincers were visible. She recoiled from the screen.
“Jeez Anna, I don’t get how you can do this stuff every day. Especially after…” Julia hadn’t seen what had happened to Blake, their co-worker, but the description from Anna and Garrick of how he’d been spliced into a half-man, half-Chittrix had been enough.
Anna straightened. She pushed her hair off her forehead and fixed Julia with a glare. “Did you come down here just to piss me off, or is there a particular reason for this visit?”
Julia sat on a round stool and spun. “My geriatric computers are running calculations. They’re just warming up and having coffee right now. I’ve no idea how long the damn things are going to take, so I thought I’d come and bug you. I’ve barely seen you lately.” She pouted. “You’re too busy with that man of yours.”
Anna gave a mocking grin. “That’s rich coming from you.”
Julia laid on the hurt tone. “What do you mean by that?”
Anna stabbed the glass pipette in her direction. “You know very well. You and Sawyer. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
Julia’s stomach tightened. Was it that obvious? Her tone was measured when she replied. “He’s allowed to look.”
Anna laughed. “Yeah, he’s looking all right. Are you telling me there’s nothing going on with you two?”
Julia avoided eye contact. She’d lived in the cramped confines of Magdon Down with Anna for six months, but had known her for much longer than that. Anna wasn’t stupid. “Nothing’s going on. My head is only full of equations and computery-science things. I’m close to miniaturizing the tech components of the Sweeper without losing power.”
Anna tapped her chest. “This is me you’re talking to, Julia. Not some idiot you just met.”
Julia elevated a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, her face straight while her mind raced. Did everyone in the base know? Or just Anna who knew her so well?
Anna snorted. “You and I lived together in that tiny room for six months. You think I haven’t noticed you disappearing at the same time as Sawyer? You are an item, aren’t you?” Anna’s hands dropped to her hips, challenging Julia to speak the truth.
Julia considered her options. Anna was her closest friend, the nearest thing she had to family since the invasion. She sighed, glimpsing the insect on the screen with the tiniest shudder.
“Maybe.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Maybe?”
“Mmm. That’s all I’m saying.” But she winked over her shoulder at Anna. It felt good to finally share her secret.
Anna smiled. “I’m glad. You deserve someone nice. Someone kind to take care of you.”
Julia drummed her fingers on the desk. “He is not taking care of me. I do not need taking care of. Besides, you know me. I’m no good at relationship stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah. Talking. Communicating. Personal stuff where you have a connection without getting naked.” Julia gave the stool another spin.
“So it’s not a relationship?” Anna’s expression shifted into a frown of confusion.
“Nope. If we were in a relationship, I’d have to become a strange, frightening version of the real me, and no one wants that. I have an emotional allergy to any kind of romantic commitment and apart from everything else, I don’t have time for it.”
Anna smirked. “Well, if it’s not a relationship, what is it then?”
Julia shrugged. “Friends with benefits.” God, it sounds so tawdry when I say it like that.
Anna’s mouth dropped open in understanding. “Friends with benefits? Sex friends?”
“Yeah. Friends with sex.” Julia hooked her fingers in the air to emphasize her words. “We’re just friends having fun. There’s no commitment. He’s a free agent as far as I’m concerned.” She frowned for a moment, “Well he's free to move on, but not to share himself around while we’re friends. I’ve never really thought about it before.” Her voice lowered. “Maybe I should clarify that with him.” She paused. There was no doubt in her mind that even if they were still friends, she was the only woman in Sawyer’s life right now.
Anna stared. “I hope you know what you’re doing. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. One of you is going to want more.”
“It’s not going to be me. I have my work.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“No.” Jeez, Anna was taking this all the wrong way. “Sawyer’s a big boy, Anna. He can take care of himself. No one’s forcing him.”
Quite the opposite actually.
“My research takes precedence right now. I have my work, and he has his, and we have time for each other after when it suits.” She waved an arm at the room, stuffed with monitors and insect tanks. “Look at all the shit we have going on in our lives. It’s too much. I don’t have the headspace for the rest. The talking to him, finding things out about him, putting up with all his dubious habits that would start to annoy me within twenty minutes. I don’t want commitment, and neither does he. We both just want fun and companionship with no strings attached. It’s not that difficult really.”
“And he’s okay with this arrangement?” Anna asked.
“He is. It works for both of us.” Julia was pleased with how resolute her voice sounded. She got up off her stool. “I’m working twenty-hour days trying to improve the Sweeper. I just want to relax, and get back to work.”
Anna pointed at Julia with her pen in affectionate disbelief. “You may be right, and I hope you are, but in my opinion, that is going to come back and bite you.”
“Yeah. I’m supposed to want to be in a relationship. After all, every girl does, doesn't she? I’m sorry, but I don’t see the appeal of ending up with a broken heart, clutching his manly t-shirt to my face while I sob in my room.”
Anna grimaced. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”
Julia glanced down at the thriving armor in Anna’s tank. “No,” she admitted. “It doesn’t, and I’m going to make sure it never is.”
She straightened and forced a smile, ignoring the whispers of uncerta
inty in her mind.
“I have work to do and aliens to fry,” she called as she headed out the door.
10
The alarm siren bounced off the walls of Julia’s small room, searing her eardrums and she started awake with a deep twisting knot of pain in her belly. Her sheets were tangled between her legs, her fists clutching the edge of the mattress in hot knots.
After months of silence, the alarm blaring for the second time in two days was extremely bad news. She drew stuffy air into her lungs, breathing out slowly in an attempt to ease her racing heart. Only moments before, she’d been drowning, suffocating as deep icy water deadened her frantic limbs. Her hand flew to her throat, the warm beat of her pulse confirming she was alive and not trapped in the landscape of her dreams.
She checked the illuminated dial of her watch as the alarm continued to wail in an excruciating loop. It was after one in the morning. She rolled out of bed, already clothed, and grabbed her loaded SIG Sauer from the metal locker beside her bed.
Her brain noted the empty, rumpled sheets she left behind. Alone again.
She hit the corridor running, stuffing the handgun into the back of her trousers. The air outside her room was cool, and a wave of goosebumps swooped up her arm. Her stomach contracted with fear as she collided with the stream of people hustling to the muster points for the second time in as many nights. Faces pushed past, pale with anxiety. Bleary-eyed individuals were still pulling on clothes. One harried woman bumped Julia, a crying toddler clutched in her arms. Julia watched her go, unable to comprehend what it must be like trying to survive with young children right now.
She instinctively headed deeper into the base, on course for the central stairwell connecting the basement to the rest of the complex. Skidding round a sharp corner, she almost ran into Sawyer and Garrick running from the communications room.
Sawyer’s face was grim. “Basement again.”
Shit.
The men kept running, and she followed the solidity of their backs, her feet barely touching the steps as she descended the stairs. The rail was cold and steely under her fingers, reminding her she was still alive and how hard she’d worked to remain so.
As she pushed through the heavy fire exit at the bottom of the stairwell, Violet and Foster were already at the entrance to the basement. Violet’s pulse rifle was slung over her back, her MP5 jutting in front of her as she paused at the door. Foster yanked it open with a grimace of dogged determination.
“Twice is too much,” Julia muttered under her breath, trying not to think about the twisted taps she’d seen earlier.
That had been the warning. What if they’d been too slow to realize what it really meant? God, she hoped not. Anxiety compressed her lungs, restricting the flow of oxygen. She inhaled forcefully, dragging reluctant air into her body.
Abruptly, the wail of the alarm stopped. She glanced upward at the now-silent units. What now?
The lights cut out and darkness cloaked her leaving her effectively blind. She blinked furiously, desperate to discern anything in the suffocating blackness. She clenched the metal bar of the fire door like her life depended on it.
Relief swamped her in a hot wave as Sawyer yanked the basement door open and secured it open, the blue wash of emergency lighting from the basement highlighting the flex of his shoulders.
Julia’s throat constricted, exacerbating her fluttering panic. She didn’t want to go in, but the light-absorbing darkness behind her was equally unwelcoming. Sawyer caught her wide-eyed gaze and threw her a reassuring smile. He had her back, always. He stretched out his hand, but she dismissed him with the tiniest shake of her head.
I can do this on my own.
Sawyer waited. As she stepped into the basement he followed, his weapon raised, so close the heat from his body soaked into her skin.
Foster and Violet stood near the ghostly hulk of the coolant machinery, their faces alert and strained.
Hardy careened out of the gloom from the stairwell. “What the hell’s going on?”
Violet gestured toward the vast room. “Lights are out. Power’s failing. We’ve done a sweep and the lower platform’s clear.”
“I’m done with coincidence.” Garrick strode into the room flicking off the safety on his weapon. “Julia, can you check the coolant systems again.”
He took her hand to guide her, but she jerked backward.
Damaged taps submerged in asphyxiating water flashed across her mind’s eye.
Garrick stalled, his grey eyes concerned. Julia’s gaze flicked from his face, over his shoulder toward the hidden water, and back again.
He squeezed her shoulder and hurried past. “Foster, let’s get this damn alarm switched off so we can hear ourselves think.”
Sawyer replaced Garrick, his palm grazing the space between her shoulder blades. His touch calmed her, the quiet energy he exuded permeating the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Without a word he pushed gently, and she was moving again.
“I’m here. Anything is going to have to come through me first.” His voice was a soft rumble in her ear. She nodded and swallowed, scooping the SIG from her waistband with damp, trembling hands.
Ahead, Violet hustled out from behind the silent plant equipment. Hardy joined her as she swung her weapon toward the ceiling, meticulously pacing out the space, sweeping high and low.
The alarm suddenly muted and the rush of water rose from the far corners of the cavernous room, filling the void the screeching wail had vacated. Weapons clicked and loaded as the team spread out under the continuing sweep of blue light. No one spoke, their bodies taut with tension.
The protective warmth of Sawyer’s hand left Julia’s back, leaving a cool spot. He walked close to her side, their hips bumping. She glanced up at him, and he smiled back, his face relaxed and easy. Julia let him lead her across the expanse of concrete to the back of the vaulted room. She heard voices on the far side, where Hardy and Violet were hidden from view.
Her pulse skittered and jumped at the base of her throat. Above her, the shadows danced and swept, their flashlights brightening a corner for one second only to plunge it into darkness in the next. It was disorientating and unsettling. Nausea contorted in her belly and her skin tingled.
Garrick rounded one of the computer banks, beckoning with two of his fingers. Julia followed him around to the plant mainframe, about fifteen feet from the barrier that separated the room from the water below.
He pointed with the snub-nose of his weapon, his eyes scanning the room in wired alertness. “Everything’s off-line again.”
Julia nodded. This she could do. Her training shifted a few gears in her mind, pushing the paralyzing fear to one side and allowing her to concentrate. She pulled out the keypad that ran the plant systems.
Sawyer took a defensive position behind her, his back against hers, covering her with his body. She had to get the power back up and running fast. They were sitting ducks with no power, blind and deaf in the dark.
Her fingers flew over the keypad, bringing up strings of numbers and letters. A rotating bevel appeared on the screen as the computer considered her request. She bit down a surge of anger. The systems were old, and there was nothing she could do but wait.
Sawyer turned and peered over her shoulder, the angles of his face illuminated in rhythmic pulses, his breath warm on her neck. She focused on the sensation of him next to her, alive in the darkness.
The keyboard beeped, and she glanced down.
The computer had refused her access. She squinted in the light, pushing her glasses firmly to the bridge of her nose.
Damn.
She’d already used the emergency access codes, and it still wasn’t letting her in. Her fingers were a blur as she tried different combinations.
A loud clatter behind made her start, her fingers scattering across the keyboard in surprise.
Sawyer squeezed her shoulder. “Just Fox.”
Julia ran her hand threw her hair and dipped her head again mouthing choice fo
ur-letter words.
Maybe the link is so intrinsically broken it needs to be fixed manually.
She looked across to the rail that marked the descent to the water below. What if it’s a physical problem with the cabling in the water?
General Gerard Fox huffed around the corner, his scant hair sticking up and his eyes puffy from sleep. Fox was the head of the CB, one of the original survivors. Julia had only crossed his path a few times and her contact with him had been minimal. He wasn’t a scientist, and despite the track record of the Sweeper prototype, he remained skeptical about its future.
He acknowledged Sawyer and Julia with the smallest jerk of his head and stormed past to the edge of the railing and leaned over. “What in damnation’s going on? People are evacuating. Where the hell is Garrick?”
Garrick loped out of the darkness, his hand flat against the handle of his machete. “Fox.”
Fox turned, outlined in blue light, his back to the open water.
Garrick’s tone was measured. “Julia’s accessing the plant diagnostics now. We’ve swept the basement. It’s clear.”
As Garrick spoke, Julia registered movement in the oscillating light against the rock wall, on the far side of the water.
Was that flicker the alarm?
A tight band of pain constricted her temples.
There it is again.
Fox spoke to her, but she didn’t register what he said. Words passed through her brain as irrelevant noise.
Movement.
She focused on the oscillating blackness behind him.
Black. Blue. Shadows and rock again.
“Dr. Simmons?”
Again.
Julia sidestepped Fox and his irritating nasal voice. She scrutinized the darkness.
This time, when the alarm light flashed, there was no doubting what she saw.
Rising from the surface, oily, black water cascading from its body in a malevolent waterfall, was a Chittrix.
Sawyer Page 5
