Invaders' Wrath (The Unstoppable Titans Book 2)

by Jerry Hart

  “I guess the orb can reanimate the recently deceased. But Chris isn’t dead. He was bitten by one of those leech monsters—I think the venom running through Chris’s veins is what’s making him act like this. Whether Jason and Michael know all of this is anyone’s guess. I pray they don’t, though.”

  “Where do you think they are now?” Doug asked. “Jason and Michael.”

  “Probably licking their wounds and biding their time, thinking of ways to get back at me.” Owen grinned.

  “They want the orb back, you think?”

  “Oh, I’m sure if they’re able, they’ll try to get it back. I can’t let that happen.”

  “And you don’t want to give it to the aliens?” Doug guessed.

  “If I knew for a fact that’s what they’re after, then I’d probably give it to them. There’s no telling what they want with it, though. Their intentions could be worse than the brothers’.”

  “Well, whatever you decide, I’m behind you.” Doug looked at the backpack. “What else did my brother make?”

  Owen had already showed Doug the Busters, so he pulled out the plastic bag full of tracking capsules and the tracker to go with it. Doug took the bag and looked at the pills.

  “How do these work?” he asked Owen.

  “I’m still not sure.” Owen laughed. “I think if they’re all together like that, they give off an incredibly strong signal that can be picked up from far away. Chris did a cool thing with a monster where he poured the tracker into the glass of water the thing was drinking. Then we tracked it down from there.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty genius.”

  “Well, he was your brother.” Owen nodded absently, remembering.

  “Yeah,” Doug said uneasily as he handed the bag back. “He was.”

  “Oh,” Owen suddenly said, and reached into the backpack to retrieve a blue-black ball. “This is a Rejecter. It’s awesome. Daniel only made four—one for each of us—but they’ve come in pretty handy.”

  Doug took it and stared with wonder. It was just like the red ones. He handed it back to Owen, who absently put it in the backpack.

  “Thanks, Owen,” Doug said, feeling much better. He got up from the table and went outside through the kitchen door. He stood on the front lawn, looking down at the tiny car at the foot of the driveway. He could see D sitting in the passenger seat with a dark blanket covering him.

  It.

  He jogged down the yard and stood next to the car, looking in through the window. It wasn’t hard to tell that there was something underneath the blanket, and any other person who walked by would assume it was a person sleeping.

  Owen had the key, but Doug found the driver’s-side door unlocked. He slid into the seat and sat next to the robot, pulling the blanket off. He couldn’t figure out why he was flicking the switch on D’s head now. The blue eyes lit up and the robot turned its head toward him.

  “I’m afraid of robots for the same reason my brother loved them,” he whispered to the silent machine. “Once, when we were young, we took a science class where we got to dabble in many different areas of technology, including programming and robotics.

  “The class had to pair up, working at different stations that dealt with different things. There had been a station with a robotic arm, where the students had to program different actions for it to perform. Daniel had gotten to that station first and had done a great job at it.

  “The next week, it was my turn. I tried programming it to pick up a wooden ball from the desk, but I didn’t do it right. The arm went all over the place, picking at nothing inches from the ball.

  “Then one attempt went horribly wrong. After I punched in the command, the arm somehow got a hold of my ear and nearly twisted it off. Ever since, I have been afraid of robots of any kind. I even avoid movies with robots and androids and cyborgs, choosing the newest chick flick instead.”

  D continued to stare.

  “Hey,” Doug said. “Can you talk?”

  D didn’t respond.

  “I guess that’s a no, so I’ll do all the talking. I don’t like robots, and I can’t even begin to understand why my brother felt the need to build you. But … but he was a good guy, and you are his pride and joy. For those reasons alone, I’m going to try to accept you. This doesn’t make us friends, though. Okay?”

  D still didn’t respond, but Doug got the impression that it—he—was listening. Doug was about to cover the robot back up, but then he heard a noise in the distance. He saw something large and silver walking toward him from a few miles away.

  Silver!

  * * *

  “Owen, can I talk to you for a second?”

  Owen had been dozing off at the dining table when Vanessa walked into the kitchen. She was standing there with little Sidney in her arms.

  “Sure,” Owen said. “I’m sorry we’re imposing on you guys. We’ll leave very soon.”

  Vanessa sat down across from him, where Doug had been sitting minutes earlier, and shook her head. “It’s not about that. I want to talk about Cullen. He’s taking a nap now, so I figured I’d talk to you while I can. Though how he could sleep with all the things going on is a mystery to me.”

  She paused, switching Sidney from one arm to the next. “You’ve known my husband longer than I have, and he used to talk about you a lot when I first met him. You two were best friends?”

  “Yeah, when we were kids.”

  “And you came to live here when your dad died.”

  “Yes, but I can’t really remember my time here.” Owen didn’t like talking about this to a stranger, even if she was his old friend’s wife.

  “Well, Cullen has had a rough childhood. His dad was pretty … unstable.” She hesitated again. “He never beat Cullen, or at least that’s what Cullen told me, but his dad made living here a nightmare. Always drinking and whatnot. You moving in had probably been the best thing to happen to him. Then, you left…”

  Owen waited while Vanessa switched the baby to the other arm. He was nervous now. He had no idea where this was going.

  “Cullen was devastated when you left. He started cutting himself. You’ve probably seen the scars on his arm.”

  Owen remembered the scars on Cullen’s left forearm when he’d been comforting Vanessa earlier. Cullen had done that because of Owen?

  “He told me all about it after we got married. The reason I’m bringing this up now is … I love my husband, and I’m just afraid of what you being here is going to do to him now. I mean, I know he’s older and wiser, but deep down he’s still a kid, and I love him for that. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to my family.”

  Owen felt awful. He didn’t want to hear any of this, but he knew he had to. Why had he left this place to begin with? He couldn’t remember. Just like he couldn’t remember how his dad had really died. What was wrong with his memories?

  “Is Cullen mad that I’m here?” Owen asked Vanessa in a low voice.

  “No, he’s ecstatic. But you’re talking about leaving again, and he’s not sure when or if he’ll see you again. I’m just afraid the same thing will happen when you leave. It may not happen right away, but it could happen again.”

  “I’m not going to leave forever,” Owen said, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it. “There’s just something I have to do first.”

  “And it has something to do with these monsters running around?” Vanessa asked, shrugging toward the window.

  “I think so, yes.”

  “Then don’t tell me that. Tell him.”

  Just then, Doug came running in through the kitchen door. He looked terrified.

  * * *

  Patrick stood on Calhoun Street and stared at his cell phone. He had tried getting a hold of Doug Hudson several times, with no success. Now he wanted to call someone else, because there was no telling when he’d get to go home again. He chose the number from speed-dial and waited.

  “Hey, Chelsea,” he said to his sister when she answered. “What are you up to
right now? Yeah, I know. It’s crazy. Hey, I have a favor to ask. Is there any way you could swing by my apartment and feed my new cat Toby? Yeah, I haven’t been home in a while. Thank you; you’re the best.”

  He hung up and looked around. Every officer was on edge. The military was about to get involved in the situation, sending tanks downtown. Patrick didn’t like that idea. At least the city was being evacuated.

  The National Guard was assisting in the evacuation. People were walking in organized lines a block away from the blue giant. Lindsay joined him and they both watched the people go by. One of the reporters from earlier, who apparently had nine lives, was reporting nearby. He and his cameraman hadn’t been crushed by the concrete block after all.

  “This is crazy,” Lindsay said, looking back at the giant. The air, which had been cold earlier, was growing colder by the minute. “What do you think will happen to us?”

  “Extinction” was all Patrick could say.

  “Did you know the victims?” Lindsay asked. “I saw the way you were at the Huntington house when they were retrieving the victims from the car.”

  “Yeah.” Patrick sighed. “I knew the girl. Her name was Alyssa Turner.”

  Lindsay put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

  They stared at each other for a while. Nothing more needed to be said. Patrick liked Lindsay, but he didn’t think anything could happen between them. He scratched his right leg nervously, noticing the thing in his pocket—the thing he took from the Huntington house that he shouldn’t have taken.

  Just then, a young male officer ran up to them. “I got the results back on those prints we lifted from the Hudson kid,” the officer said. “The prints were abnormal. We couldn’t use them.”

  “What do you mean—you couldn’t use them?” Patrick asked.

  “The prints weren’t like normal prints. Either the assailant did something to his fingerprints … or, he was born with funky fingerprints.”

  * * *

  Nikki, Allison and Darlington followed the crowd nervously. As they walked down the street, Nikki decided what she must do. She couldn’t stay here. She had to go back to the place she vowed to never return.

  “Do you have a place to go?” she asked Allison.

  “Oh, yeah, no worries,” Allison replied kindly. “I have a friend we can stay with.” She admired Nikki; Nikki had helped her avoid a lot of misfortune. With the exception of her last boyfriend, that is.

  “Darlington and I aren’t going with you,” Nikki said. “We have to go somewhere else. I’m sorry, Allison. We appreciate everything you’ve done for us, but there’s something I have to do first.”

  Everything that was happening was connected, but she couldn’t quite grasp how. There was something, deep down, binding this world together. It was infuriating not being able to figure it out. But Nikki knew the best way to do so would be to know more about herself.

  She had to go back home. And she was taking Darlington with her.

  As she crossed the blue giant’s path, she couldn’t shake the feeling it was staring at her and Darlington.

  CHAPTER 11

  Everyone stared out the living-room window. Silver stood a mile away, on top of the hill Owen and the others had taken to get to this neighborhood. The giant looked around, casting a few glances in the direction of the Matthews house. At times, Owen felt it was staring a little too long at this house. He backed away from the window.

  “Why is it here?” Doug asked.

  “You turned off the orb on our way here, didn’t you?” Curtis asked Owen. “Maybe it’s following some kind of energy trail and searching the area.”

  Owen said nothing. For some reason, all he could think about was Chris. He was still out there somewhere, and Owen had sworn he’d go back for him. He just had to work around the fact that his best friend was a super-powered zombie.

  Owen walked down the hallway to the bathroom. When he got there, he immediately threw up in the toilet. Everything that was happening just seemed too much to him now. Aliens were invading Earth, Daniel and Alyssa were dead, Chris was missing, and Owen still wasn’t sure what to do with the orb. He wasn’t even sure he’d find answers at his farmhouse—he just felt that was the way to go.

  He knew for sure that he couldn’t just give the orb to the invaders. They could be evil just like Michael and Jason.

  Michael and Jason…

  Owen hadn’t really thought of them in a while. Michael had been unconscious or dead the last time Owen had seen him. Jason, on the other hand, was alive and well and hell-bent on getting his hands on the orb again. The look in his eyes that night at the garage when Owen made claim to the object had been frightening. Owen had known at that moment that he hadn’t seen the last of the brothers.

  He flushed the toilet and left the bathroom. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he saw a door across from him cracked open. He assumed this was Cullen and Vanessa’s room. He opened the door a little and looked in. The room was dark since the sky was cloudy outside, and a ceiling fan spun noisily overhead. He saw Cullen lying on the bed, facedown. Owen knocked on the door to get his attention.

  “Come in,” Cullen said without looking.

  Owen came in and closed the door behind him. “You hiding in here?”

  “Not hiding; napping.”

  “You’re not napping,” Owen said. “You’re hiding. From me.”

  Cullen grabbed a pillow and hugged it. “What makes you think that?”

  “Vanessa told me about your arm.” Owen hesitated, wondering if he should’ve ratted her out like that. “About how you took my leaving so badly. When we were younger.”

  “It wasn’t that big a deal,” Cullen said, facing him now.

  “Really?” Owen grabbed Cullen’s left arm from under the pillow. “What’s this, then?”

  Cullen didn’t answer. He just stared at his exposed arm, at the scars.

  “Was your dad really that bad?” Owen asked.

  “You were here. Don’t you remember what he was like?”

  “I don’t know what I remember anymore. I didn’t even remember how my dad died. I had to hear it from you.”

  “That’s weird. Why do you think that is?”

  “Don’t know.” Owen chuckled. “It’s like everything’s mixed up in my head. I barely remember even leaving this house. It’s like I was sleepwalking the whole time, you know.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Cullen said. “You never talked when you were here. We assumed it was shock or something. I just wish I could’ve gone with you. My dad went berserk after you went missing. Not like he was worried about you, but more like he was worried about how people would react when they found out he lost you.”

  “He didn’t take it out on you, did he?”

  “He sorta did. He didn’t hit me or anything. He just yelled a lot. He said I was supposed to keep an eye on you, that he couldn’t do this alone.”

  “I’m sorry,” Owen said quietly.

  “You had a good life in San Sebastian?” Cullen asked.

  “Yeah, it was pretty good.” Before Michael showed up, he added in his head.

  “Then it’s okay. Tell me about your friends, what you did while you were there.”

  “Well…” Owen didn’t know what to tell. “There were some strange things in the city. I saw a mutant fish in Trident River.”

  “Say what?” Cullen’s interest was piqued.

  “Yeah, we kept him as a pet. I named him Bentley.”

  Thinking about Bentley made Owen feel guilty. He decided not to tell Cullen about how he killed the poor dogfish’s family.

  “What happened to him?” Cullen asked.

  “Bentley? He … ran away.” He didn’t mind telling him that much, since it was true. “He’s probably better off—things got kinda bad at home anyway.”

  “Like what?”

  “All kinds of crap.” Owen didn’t want to talk about it, even though he had set himself up for it.


  “Did you make a new best friend?” Cullen suddenly asked, changing the subject.

  “Yeah. His name was Chris. He was a pretty cool guy.” Owen realized he was speaking of Chris in the past tense, which worried him. Chris wasn’t lost yet. Owen told himself he was going to find him and return him to the way he used to be.

  “The wife wants to know why you guys have a perfectly good car even though you said you were in an accident,” Cullen said with a grin.

  “We were in a car accident, just not with that car.”

  “Do I want to know, about the car I mean?”

  “No.”

  “Fair enough.” Cullen turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Owen looked around the dark room, growing colder by the second from the fan. There was an exercise bike in the far corner, by the dresser. The curtains were drawn on the window, giving the room a bluish tint.

  “What’s going on out there?” Cullen asked. “Outside?”

  “I wish I knew,” Owen said, knowing that Cullen was referring to the giants.

  “I know I’m a grown man, but I’m going to be devastated when you leave again.”

  Owen laughed. “Devastated is a strong word.”

  “Well, I was devastated when you left the first time.” Cullen wasn’t smiling.

  “I’ll visit you often. I’ll want to see little Sidney grow up.”

  “Yeah, you can be Uncle Owen.”

  A moment of silence went by, then the two of them laughed hard. It was like old times, or so Owen thought. He wasn’t sure if any of the memories he had of him and Cullen growing up together were real.

  “What is with these goofy bangs?” Cullen flicked Owen’s blond bangs with a finger.

  “Dude, don’t knock the bangs.”

  “You need to try some styling gel.” Cullen got up and walked to his bathroom. Owen joined him.

  “You use gel?” Owen asked.

  “Hell yeah.” Cullen pointed to his stylishly sloppy ’do. “You think this happens by accident?”

  Cullen grabbed a green jar of styling gel and scooped a handful. Owen stared at it nervously, then let Cullen mix it into his hair. He worked for a few minutes with Owen’s short hair, then asked him what he thought.