Garrick: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Earth Resistance Book 1)

by Theresa Beachman

  Anna walked slowly, holding the pulse rifle in front of her with both hands. The backpack dug uncomfortably into her shoulders, but she ignored the pressure, concentrating instead on keeping the nose of her rifle steady. Creeping past the weapons labs, she confirmed the doors were still sealed, the air locks blinking a rhythmic red in the gloom, just as they should. The small access windows of all three rooms were dark. Julia and Blake were not down here.

  Where the hell are they? What if I can’t find them?

  Her heart skittered a panicky rhythm in her chest at the thought of leaving without her two remaining colleagues. They had survived the last six hellish months together. She had to find them.

  She stopped.

  The Armoury.

  The access panel hung off the wall in a spaghetti of multi-coloured wires. Even in the half-light, it was evident that the wires had been stripped of their plastic coating and twisted together to short-circuit the lock. When she turned the handle, the door opened, the security air lock already disengaged.

  Breathe Anna.

  She stepped into the small air lock and touched the second inner door, which also swung open with only gentle pressure from her hand. She paused on the threshold of the lab, hesitating. Someone was here. Someone capable of hacking the highest level of security without breaking a sweat.

  The lab was vast, split into eight different engineering rooms, each with their own access codes and security requirements, but the only one Anna was interested in was at the far end, where her final armour prototypes were stored. Walking forward, she hugged the wall, her backside tracing the line of desks and silent computer equipment.

  Then she spotted him.

  He was standing in front of her armoury access lock, clearly intent on hacking the security. His back was to her, but he was tall with short dark hair, black cargo trousers, a blue t-shirt straining over impressive biceps, and some kind of military jerkin covered with bulging pockets.

  Anna thrust herself back against the wall and held her breath, closing her eyes for a second to concentrate.

  When she opened them again, he had paused in his work, perhaps sensing her watching him. She held her breath and pressed herself even harder against the wall, willing herself to disappear. Slow seconds ticked by. One, two, three, and then his head dipped, and he was intent on his work again. He hadn’t seen her.

  Good. He was going to pay for coming in here and touching all her tech.

  She bent and shrugged off the restrictive heavy pack behind a desk, then laid her pulse rifle across it and checked the SIG Sauer she kept holstered at her waist. Full round. Anna peeked over the top of the desk. He was still working. She ducked down and began to crawl forward behind the line of office equipment that ran parallel to the wall, acutely aware of the sound of her own breathing and the sweat running down her back.

  However, when she stood and placed the nose of the SIG in the small of his back, her breathing was calm again, and she barely noticed the thrum of her heart against her rib cage. The armour was hers. It was the culmination of years of research and no one, no one, was going to just waltz in here and take it from her.

  “Don’t move,” she said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

  His hands froze in their work, but he shifted his hips, preparing to react. She pressed harder with the nose of the SIG, forcing him to shift forwards.

  She kept her voice low, impressing herself at how moderate and level she sounded. “You can try messing with me, but I’ve had plenty of practice kicking the crap out of Chittrix in the last six months, so I wouldn’t bother unless you like the thought of being beaten by a girl. Now move away from the control panel, slowly.”

  6

  Garrick froze, feeling the solid nub of her gun in the small of his back. His mind raced through the possibilities of what to do next while also furious at himself for allowing anyone to creep up on him like that. Her speech was soft and educated. She was unlikely to shoot him, at least not while he had his back to her. She sounded like she had a higher sense of decency than that.

  Fate took the decision out of his hands.

  Cold rain exploded from the ceiling as the sprinkler system soaked him to the skin instantly. Garrick took his advantage. He spun, grabbing a delicate wrist tight in his hands, forcing the gun to clatter to the floor. He kicked it out of reach in one movement, relying on the sound to tell him where it landed. Her blue eyes widened in surprise, but then she hijacked his momentum to knock him back against the secure door he’d been picking. His head connected painfully with the metal door frame. Garrick swore mentally for letting the fact that she was a woman take the edge off his game. He should know better by now, male or female, everyone was out for him or herself. She was unbelievably fast.

  He grabbed both her upper arms, pressed them tight against her body and pushed back from the door he was leaning against. Twisting her round, he pushed her up against the wall and used the full weight of his body to force her into the grey brick. Perhaps too hard, as the air hissed from her lungs.

  But she was still fighting him, twisting and pulling at the restraint of his arms, trying to pull her knees up to catch him in the groin. Blonde hair fell in wet strips across her eyes, giving her the appearance of a trapped wild animal. She snarled at him under her breath.

  Finally, he slammed his chest against her, immobilising her completely.

  “Quit it, you’re going to hurt yourself,” he shouted over the roar of the water.

  “Let me go.” She jerked her head in an attempt to hurt him. He twisted his head out of harm’s way. Jeez, she’s a fighter.

  Garrick took a long breath and spoke with as much control as he could muster while trying to restrain a human wildcat. “I’m not going to hurt you. If I let you go, can you promise to do the same? No one needs to get hurt here.” Her eyes were hidden behind soaked wisps of fair hair. “We’re supposed to be on the same team, after all.”

  She raised her eyebrows and tried to pull herself up a little, but the weight of his body prevented her. Full curves pressed against him in all the right places. His cock hardened at the memory of this feeling from his previous life, before the invasion.

  “I never said I wanted to hurt you.” She tried to shift again. “But you’re doing a really good job of changing my mind.”

  Garrick smiled.

  She frowned back, blinking as water continued to stream from above, but her glowering wasn’t working on Garrick. His attention was focused on full pink lips and the tip of her tongue licking water away.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, coming in to my lab and trying to take my armour?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Your armour?”

  “Yes, my armour. I think if I created it, it’s mine, don’t you?”

  Garrick glanced through the security glass to the sleek rows of slate grey armour in the room beyond. He was well aware the science to make that kind of stuff was way beyond his comprehension. He considered those blue eyes.

  Was she playing with him?

  She stared right back at him, eyes alive with passionate fire.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  He ignored the question, nodding in the direction of the room beyond. “If you are who you say you are, then you can open the door.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m just going to tie you up anyway and help myself to what I need. You’re not the only one with a special skill set.” Damn, if she wasn’t annoying. He paused. “I’m not sure if you’ve looked out the window recently, but this building is about to have its very own alien apocalypse.”

  Her eyes never left his, blazing defiance. He liked that in a woman. Although I could have done without the gun in my back.

  He dropped his gaze from hers. There was a lanyard cord hanging from her neck, dipping under the smooth, black cotton of her shirt. He slipped his hand under the cord, his fingers grazing her collarbone. Her ID badge s
lipped out into his palm.

  “Hey!” She wriggled, but he ignored her, examining her ID while continuing to restrain her body with his. It had a magnetic entry strip. Excellent. She looked pissed off in her ID photo. He glanced up. Yep, it was pretty true to life.

  “Dr. Ward, you’re going to tell me the passcode for this door and save us both a lot of time and hassle.”

  He yanked hard, breaking the safety link on the cord then reached across to the security reader with his right hand, keeping her flat against the wall with his body weight. He slid the card through the reader, and one of two lights on the panel changed to green. He waited, fingers hovering above the numerical keypad.

  Silence, apart from the now easing stream of water above them.

  Shit. He didn’t have time for this.

  “Fine. Do it your way.” He stepped back and before she protested, spun her so she faced the wall, her cheek flat against the door. He twisted both arms high between her shoulder blades, leaving one hand to remove a plastic tie from his belt. His fingers were slippery with water, but he got it round her wrists and pulled it snug, allowing it to bite into her flesh. Just enough to make a point.

  “That hurts,” she panted.

  Garrick pulled on her shoulders and twisted her to face him.

  “Tell me the code and we can both escape alive. Otherwise, I can crack it myself and leave you here as a Chittrix snack.”

  She glared at him.

  Then the lights flickered. They both raised their faces to the ceiling as the sprinkler system finally cut out. Without the hiss of the water, the room was eerily quiet. Garrick was so close her breath was a soft whisper in his ear.

  Gunshots cracked high above them, and something shrieked. They both reacted, eyes flicking upwards and then back at each other.

  “Well?” he asked.

  7

  The dark-haired man typed Anna’s access code into the keypad. The alarm beeped, mechanisms slid, and the glass opened in a huff of oil-scented, pressurised air. Everything inside was slick and pristine, just the way she liked it. She stepped away from the wall now that his attention was elsewhere and pulled at her hands, but nothing was giving, and the restraint just bit harder into her flesh.

  He paused on the threshold for the briefest second before stepping into the room.

  Behind her, the door at the far end of the lab crashed open. Anna turned as a rangy man hurried into the room, black MP5 held across his chest. His face was blurry with dust and blood, his head clean-shaven apart from a short, scruffy mohican. The backs of his hands were smeared with the yellow slime that appeared to make up eighty-percent of the Scutters.

  The rude, dark-haired guy spoke over her shoulder.

  “Sawyer. Get in here.”

  The tall man nodded, clocking Anna with raised eyebrows. “Garrick, how on earth do you find time to be chatting to ladies?”

  Garrick. The rude one was called Garrick. Sawyer jogged past her and winked, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. Garrick grunted in reply, and as Anna turned, she caught him studying her, his face unreadable. Finally, his assessment was over and he stalked to the back of the armoury, where he started a touch inventory of her equipment with his fingertips.

  Sawyer began pulling grey body-plates off the rails. He paused and ran an appreciative hand over the smooth breast of one of her jerkins as he spoke. “Shit’s going on upstairs. Chittrix coming in from all angles. Once the alarm went off, they got all excited like there was a party going on that they were missing.”

  “Foster and Hardy?”

  “Still upstairs holding them back. There’s another woman too.”

  Julia. “Is she okay?” Anna blurted out.

  Both looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was there.

  “Well?” She did her best to keep the note of annoyance out of her voice, which was ridiculous considering she was standing with her hands cable-tied behind her back.

  Sawyer nodded. “She was when I left them.”

  Julia is alive. I can find her, and we can still escape. “Untie me. I need to find her.”

  Garrick went to exit the room but Anna sidestepped and blocked him. She tugged at her wrist restraints, mentally slapping him in the face.

  “I’m speaking to you,” she said.

  He sighed. “I’m well aware of that. Can I trust you to behave yourself?”

  “Yes.” Depending on what you consider good behaviour.

  He stepped behind her, and with one quick motion sliced open the cable tie hurting her wrist. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his body. The heat of him made the hairs on her bare arms stand on end.

  The second her hands were free, Anna readied to plant the punch that screamed from the middle of her brain, in giant red letters, NOW.

  He caught her wrist mid-air, grinding the small bones of her fingers against each other. God, he was strong. Her knees buckled as pain lanced up her arm. He wasn’t messing. Some small part of her brain acknowledged this was a good thing, given that Scutters and Chittrix were filling the building. The rest of her brain still wanted to knee him in the groin.

  “Dr. Ward, we do not have time for this kind of shit.” He raised a reproving eyebrow.

  “Fuck you.”

  Sawyer laughed from across the room. “How do you persuade them to make such promises?”

  “Let go of me.” She wrested her wrist out of Garrick’s grasp. Her skin chilled instantly where his warm fingers had been only moments before.

  Coming to stand beside them, Sawyer patted the body armour he’d pulled on, making appreciative noises. He ran his hands along the breastplate again, testing for comfort. “That kook Foster was right. This shit real? Think it’s any good?”

  A headache threatened at Anna’s temples. “Of course, it’s fucking good,” she snapped.

  Sawyer grimaced. “She work here? Or did you just pick her up en route?”

  “Yeah, she works here.” Garrick tugged on a sleeved jacket, securing it across his wide shoulders before strapping on thigh-protection plates. “She designed it, apparently. Sawyer, meet Dr. Anna Ward, Chief Engineer, Biological Weapons.” He nodded in her direction. “Anna, meet Sawyer, cynical badass.”

  Garrick skirted Sawyer and planted himself in front of Anna. Intense grey eyes burned into her. Anna glared right back at him. She wasn’t intimidated. “Who else is here apart from your friend?” he asked.

  “My colleague Dr. Julia Simmons and Blake King our translator. We’re all that’s left. Blake’s disabled.”

  A high-pitched keening from the main door to the lab interrupted them. Scutters poured in through the doorway, their black, shiny bodies tumbling over one another. Anna’s stomach lurched at the pointy, razor-sharp legs skittering and scrabbling for purchase on the slippery tiled floor.

  “Let’s collect everyone on the way out,” Garrick said, grabbing Anna by the arm.

  8

  Garrick took the lead, striding towards the wave of Scutters. The entrance to the lab was an organic, seething mass of insect carapaces and jointed legs that jerked and hummed with an intensity that crawled its way into his skull, driving him crazy.

  Rein in the anger. It doesn’t help.

  He unhooked his machete, hefting it in his hand. He was ready for the little bastards. Beside him, Sawyer checked his MP5. Above Garrick’s head, there were still echoes of pandemonium on the ground floor. A knot tightened in his stomach. Sawyer, Foster, and Hardy were now his team, and he’d go to hell and back to bring them out of this.

  And the belligerent scientist? He took a final glance over his shoulder. Anna was behind him, strapping on body armour with a speed that belied her loveliness. She pulled the straps tight without hesitation, even as her blue eyes were wide with fear. Her mouth was set in a thin line of determination as she lifted a pulse rifle from behind a desk and hefted a grey backpack onto her shoulders.

  He picked up her dropped SIG and handed it to her. “Ready?”

  She nodded and push
ed a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear and readjusted the armour plates on her thighs. Her features were fixed and serious.

  Garrick took the first swing, wading without hesitation into the throbbing sea of Scutters. He lifted the blade and began to slash and cut a path to the door ten feet away. Sawyer shouted above the chittering insects, annihilating black, shiny bodies left and right. Yellow liquid burst from shattered exoskeletons in viscous gobs that stuck to Garrick’s limbs in a sour rain. Anna was right behind him, firing at the Scutters circling them to the rear, her body bumping up against Garrick’s every few moments as they moved in a slow ballet of killing. The contact with her reassured him.

  What was that about? Focus on getting out of here in one piece, Garrick.

  At the door, the throng of Scutters eased a little as most had already rammed their spiny bodies into the lab. Garrick risked a glance of grim satisfaction over the top of Anna’s head at the disembowelled mess of dead corpses behind them.

  Sawyer headed out the lab and carved a path through the remaining Scutters on the stairs. Garrick and Anna followed, working in sync towards the upper flights where the scorpion-like aliens thinned in intensity, Garrick slashed and cut as Sawyer and Anna fired their weapons repeatedly.

  His back was to her when a barely audible grunt alerted him and the high-pitched keening of the Scutters escalated. He turned instantly. Anna was sprawled on the steps below him, her hands raised in a defensive gesture across her face. He reached down without hesitation, his fingers closing over hers. Grabbing her hot hand, he pulled hard, popping her out of the seething mass like a cork from a bottle.

  She lurched upwards, Scutters falling from her body in a convulsing wave. Her feet landed on the step beside him. Garrick leaned forward and swiped two remaining Scutters from her back, their stings rattling in a futile attempt to penetrate her body armour. She was panting, and her breath warm on his face sent an unexpected flutter of sensation into the pit of his belly. It pulled him up short, and he hesitated, his face only inches from hers.