Cole nodded, half turning to watch the window behind him reflect the faces of all the people packed into his car. He caught sight of Marisol muttering into Renata’s ear. She’d dressed for battle, wearing thick leather under a heavy flak jacket modified with pouches and holsters sewn onto it. His eyes roamed over her body to where her waist pinched in and her hips flared out, down her thighs sheathed in tight pants, which supported the ring of rifle magazines strapped high up on her right leg.
“Want a picture, Prince of the Revolution?” she asked, snapping him out of his trance and embarrassing him. He was saved having to answer as the world outside went from black to gray to bright sunlight in an instant.
Their train bucked as whichever brave souls at the controls opened the taps to accelerate them to their top speed. He stared out for a few beats, marveling at how empty and dead the landscape looked on the surface and caught Soares brooding.
“You gonna show me or what?” he asked.
“Show you what?”
“The files you received,” Cole said, nodding his head at the tablet. “I’m not dumb.”
“I know you’re not, but the time for that isn’t now.”
“What if we all die?” Cole shot back. “Then I’ll never find out.” Soares silenced him with a glare, reminding him that every single person on the train didn’t need to hear their great hope for the revolution talking that way. Cole shut up and waited, feeling his body rock from side to side as the train blasted across the country on a one-way ticket to war.
Dex
Dex hardly recognized the Detroit facility. He’d come through Toledo, heading north on the worn-down interstate. It was a bustle of activity, but his tablet had gone offline earlier, so he couldn’t receive any information other than the drones that were still active. Someone must have shut the grid off, and thought maybe the damned Overseers had done it themselves, so the humans had no idea what was occurring. It was a smart move, but Dex hated going in blind like this. Could they suspect he had something to do with the destruction of nearly half their American fleet?
The closer he got to the manufacturing plant that Alec had worked at for years, the more nervous he became. A massive ship hung in the sky, lights pouring from beneath it, highlighting their prize possession. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of Seekers in the air, and that meant there were Trackers nearby too. His skin crawled just thinking about it.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. He’d changed his mind once before, so who was to say he couldn’t turn around and hightail it out of there? Head south, far away from any of the local Occupation. They’d already worked on destroying the agri-centres and manufacturing plants, so he’d be safe there. Somewhere on the beach maybe. Would it be so bad? He’d be able to live his last remaining years on the water, eating coconuts and catching crabs off the dock with those little crates.
And when his time came, he could smile as fire blasted over him, and take comfort that he’d lived a few good years. Years that were his and no one else’s.
He grinned at the thought but kept driving toward the gateway. It was glowing, bright blue energy crackling along the outer edges of the circular monstrosity. This was it. Dex’s stomach clenched at the sight, and his foot slipped off the gas pedal. He left it off, coasting as he stared up through the cracked windshield.
No. He’d play his part and die like the rest of them. Because he’d spent far too long doing their bidding, and it was time to repair the damage. Tom wanted him on the inside. He said they’d need someone beside the Colonel if things didn’t work out as they hoped. Dex hated the idea of watching the Reclaimers be destroyed in front of his eyes, and he didn’t think he could stand by and watch if it came to that.
Tom had made him promise. Damn it, he hated that old man. For some reason, he still respected the hell out of him.
His truck had drifted into the wrong lane as he stared at the gateway, and he corrected his trajectory with a snap of his wrist and a squeak of the old tires. Humans guarded the entrance, and Dex could only shake his head. They were oblivious. Unaware they were being used by the bastards. They would find out soon enough.
He pulled up, grinning at the alert woman behind the plexiglass station.
“Dexter Lambert.” He told her his ID number, and she shrugged.
“Computers are out. I’m only allowed to let certain names go in…” She had a clipboard, and ran a long finger over the list of hand-written names. Dex lifted his eyebrows, trying to sneak a peek.
“Dexter Lambert. You’re on here. I’m supposed to call this one in.”
His blood froze, and he dipped a finger under his collar, pulling it out a few times. “Does it say why?”
She shook her head. “The Colonel wants to see you upon your arrival. Lucky man.” She smiled at him, and he wanted to tell her to run, to take herself and get as far away from this gateway as possible. She was young, maybe twenty-two, and Dex hated to think that she’d likely be dead in hours, days if she was lucky. Or unlucky.
She came out and lifted the gate by hand, waving him through, and he gave her a courteous nod of his chin as he parked the truck to the side. There was an assortment of other cars there, some far nicer than his, others on the brink of exploding. The van beside him was held together with duct tape and a prayer, and he jumped when the bumper fell off the front, clanging loudly to the concrete.
The sound of the hovering spacecraft lingered through the air, rendering everything else almost mute the closer he came to it. The facility was beside a massive field, nothing but a wooden thigh-high fence surrounding it. The Overseers really didn’t worry about much, that was clear.
Dex walked toward the building, seeing the intense gateway beyond. It was at least a hundred feet tall, round circles rotating along the outer edges. They glowed blue, but the center was dark, see through, which suggested the gate hadn’t been opened yet.
Dex also took solace in the fact that the gate’s architecture wouldn’t accommodate those massive screeching spaceships coming through. That had to be a good sign.
As he neared the old car factory, he saw an old symbol from America’s past. From a time where branding meant something. What a different world they lived in now. He peered into the field, and his breath caught in his chest. The aliens. There were hundreds of them, maybe as many as a thousand milling about, chittering at one another as if they were at a festival and the opening act was boring them.
Dex cringed as he spotted some humans near the entrance of the huge manufacturing bay door. The men were all in suits, the women in form-fitting dresses, all appearing smug as they held wine glasses. Dex shook his head, wondering what kind of alternate reality they were in to think this was a time to celebrate.
“Dexter.” A lisping voice said his name, and he spotted the Colonel. He was in the center of the huddle of humans, and they spread apart, allowing Dex to enter their fold.
“Colonel,” he said softly.
“I was wondering if you’d show up.” His words sent a shiver down Dex’s spine. What was meant by them?
“It seemed logical with everything going on out there.” Dex had to make himself seem valuable enough to keep on their side. “Seems to me, the smartest ones would be right here. And Momma didn’t raise a dummy.” He hated his casual reference to his mother, but it was only for show.
“Very good. I had an inkling you were a good one, Dexter. I’ve been watching you for a long time,” the Colonel said, his scarred face puckering as he smiled. “Wine?”
Dex nodded. “Sure.”
A human in a jumpsuit scurried over, emaciated and sad. Her shaved hair was thinning, her skin pasty. She passed him a glass and poured the wine, bowing her head, and before he could thank her, she was off to a shadowy corner, hiding from everyone.
He took a sip, playing along. “It's good. Where did you…”
“Dexter, stick with us. You won’t go without any longer. We are to be the last, with a selection of options to pick from.” Everyone laughed, as
if the Colonel had made a funny joke, but Dex didn’t get it.
“You mean, they kill the rest of the humans, and we stick around?” Dex asked, trying not to press his luck.
A woman set her cool palm on his hand, and tilted her head in. She was wearing fat diamond earrings, and she smelled like a million bucks. “Why fight them when we have no choice? Let them take the world. We’re taking an island in the South Pacific.”
Dex doubted the Overseers would keep their end of the bargain, but he only smiled, lifting his glass. “I’ve always wanted to wear a grass skirt and drink out of a coconut.”
The gathered few elite clinked wine glasses with him and laughed, but Dex could sense more than joviality behind it. They were all putting on a charade, each of them terrified. He wondered if the woman who’d whispered in Trent James’ ear all those years ago was among them. He suspected she was.
“What happened to the grid?” Dex asked, daring to stretch his questions.
The Colonel waved a dismissive hand. “I bet it was them. They never give us a heads up. Then there was the fiasco in Washington. What a mess.”
“What happened?” Dex gulped too much air.
“Nothing you need to worry about."
Dex glanced at the horde of aliens. “When do we leave for Fiji?”
“Dexter, we have much to do still. I’ve promised we will have no resistance, and I’ll stick to it. We also have cleanup duty once they’re through.” He spoke so casually about it, and Dex wanted to deck the man with everything he had.
“Cleanup?”
“I’m sure you’re aware it's begun. Soon the drones will have killed most of the Occupation-run facilities, then they will seek out any more hidden groups. We don’t think there are many, maybe only a couple thousand spread over the country,” he said, drinking from his glass after.
“And the rest of the world?” Dex asked.
A tall dark man cleared his throat, fixing his bowtie before speaking. “From what we can gather, their main forces are here. They all but destroyed Europe and Africa. Australia is gone, sunk. China is where they’re producing the misters and their elixirs. Not much to contend with.”
Dex’s ears perked up. “What happens if they don’t have misters and their… elixirs? Just out of curiosity.” He smiled affably and took another sip of his delicious wine.
The woman beside him frowned and spoke in a low, hushed voice. “That’s none of our concern.”
Dex nodded in agreement, pretending to think the idea of helping destroy the remaining humans after the aliens’ reinforcements came through the gate was a great idea. He downed his wine and suddenly wished he hadn’t. He wanted a clear head for what was going to happen.
They stood around for another half hour, discussing their plans for the post-post invasion, and soon the Colonel was leading Dex away, toward the residences.
“Dexter, I know this is difficult, but if anyone can lead the charge against the Freeborns, it's going to be our best Hunter.” He stopped in front of a door to a three-story brick building as far across the facility lot as they could go. From here, Dex had a clear image of the rotating gateway, and he wished he didn’t.
“You want me to be in charge of killing them?” he asked.
“That’s right. We all need to do our part. Can I count on you?” the Colonel lisped, his hands gripping Dex at the top of the arms as they squared off.
“Sure. You can count on me.” He hated saying the words, but it didn’t matter. He’d never follow through.
“I knew a Hunter would understand. Here’s your room. Enjoy the night, because tomorrow brings a new era to Earth. One where we’re kings.” The man unlocked a door and motioned him inside before walking away.
Dex shut the door and pressed his back to it, taking long breaths. The suite was luxurious, the nicest place he’d seen in a long time. There was an array of food and wine spread out on a kitchen countertop, as well as lanterns lighting the room.
He sat at the table, eating a piece of mango, wondering how he was going to sleep that night. He peered at the bed with the lush soft pillows and puffy bedding, and guessed comfortably.
Chapter 39
Alec
Over four hundred survivors had piled up at the Phoenix facility. Many had escaped from other facilities in the region, and there were forty young women with over fifty children under the age of eight from a local breeding yard. After seeing their faces, all Alec could think about for hours was revenge.
The next morning, he’d calmed, had a few hours of sleep, and they’d managed to find enough medical supplies and food and water to sustain the group for the time being. The man who had tried killing him the night before turned out to be a former police officer, back in a time when things like that existed. He remained fit as a result of years in the field, sneaking calories when he was able. Alec put him at fifty-five, but it was hard to tell.
“When you off to Atlanta?” Scott asked him. His head was mostly bald, his face covered in a weeks’ worth of growth, and Alec noticed his hand was never far from his gun.
The sun had only risen a few minutes ago, and Alec was already itching to proceed to their next target. This was the day. The last day. “Soon. Hopefully.”
He hadn’t seen Izzy or Becca yet, but he’d only just risen from the dead. The huge building acted as a house, and people were scattered around the floor, using anything they could as bedding. There was nearly enough stored in the facility since over two hundred workers had been stationed there.
Babies were crying and children were walking fearfully through the crowds. The entire sight was sickening.
“Polly and I are going to stay put, fix these people up, then head for the West Coast. You’re sure they’ll take us in?” he asked.
“Izzy’s father runs it. She says he’ll help, he’ll help.” Alec had a different experience with the man, but they had no choice. “It’ll be a hard journey, Scott. Eight hundred miles…”
Scott patted his own chest. “I’ll see that they make it, Alec. We have some people here with healthcare experience. You’d be amazed what sticks with you, even after this many years. I’ve tasted a lick of freedom, and I’ll never give that up now.”
“The drones are useless, but they might activate again. We may be surprised at what backup systems are in place.” Alec wished he could give the man his tablet, but he couldn’t. “Just be wary. If you see a ship, don’t trust it. If it’s us, we’ll dip and rise three times, okay?”
“Done.” Scott stuffed his hand out, and Alec stared at it. “You’re supposed to shake it. Seal our deal.”
Alec did, feeling the rough calluses of a hard-working man. “I’m glad we met. Take care of them.”
“Likewise.” Scott turned, heading toward Polly and a group of people already working at loading carts full of supplies.
Alec walked toward the alien vessel, assuming his two cohorts were promptly on board. The ship was so quiet while its engine was turned off, and his footsteps were loud as he clambered up the ramp.
He instantly heard laughter from deep within, and he jogged toward the sound. It was as alien a noise as the intense thrusters.
Becca was red-faced and on the ground. There were stacks of crates around the pilot’s bucket seat.
Izzy kicked one of the boxes, and they laughed again. “Maybe Alec can help.”
“Help what?” he asked.
“We almost have it so Becca can maneuver the ship herself, but we’re not quite there,” Izzy said, and Alec stared at their tools, trying to decipher the puzzle.
“I have it!” Alec beamed as he started messing with the controls, using rope and folding it over a girder in the bridge’s ceiling.
“That’s brilliant. Use the beam as a pulley. I can use the pedals with my arms.” Becca looped the rope over her stump and lowered it, the pedal moving in accordance.
Izzy grabbed Alec, pulling him into a hug, and kissed his cheek. “I knew you could do it.”
He stumbl
ed back, and they were both staring at him. They burst out in laughter again, and he shook his head. “You ladies do know we’re about to leave on another suicide mission, right?”
“Yes, but why not laugh a little before we die?” Becca asked, bringing some seriousness to the bridge.
Izzy still smiled. “This one worked out pretty well. Who’s to say we can’t do that again? And with Becca’s ability to fly with ease, we’re golden.”
“If you say so,” Alec mumbled. “Are we ready to go?”
“Let’s eat first. We can’t go on empty stomachs.” Becca was already leaving the bridge, and Izzy and Alec followed behind. Izzy slipped her fingers between his as they walked down the ramp.
The trip took longer than he’d wanted, but Becca didn’t want to overuse the thrusters. She said the engines were rusty, lacking maintenance as the ship had sat unused in the Vegas yard for almost a year. Alec couldn’t complain, but they were only four hours from Tom’s deadline.
As they neared Atlanta, it was clear the drones had wiped out a lot of facilities. Atlanta hardly stood, though he wasn’t certain if it was like that from the initial invasion or if it had been done recently. He saw a few fires burning across the desolate landscape below that seemed to answer his unasked question.
“We’re heading in. No sign of resistance,” Becca said, and Alec confirmed this by the blank radar screen.
“Why did they leave it unguarded?” he asked.
Izzy held out the tablet, but it was dark. “My guess is they killed the power grid, but the drones are operating off something else. Satellite controls linked to this tower.”
“Then we blow it to smithereens,” Becca said.
Salvation (Rise Book 2) Page 25
