The Survivors: Books 1-3

by Nathan Hystad

  “It takes two months to get back. It could be too late by then,” Slate said.

  “Or they chose not to transmit because they knew we were arriving and would blow up their story. It might not be too late at all. Maybe a carefully worded message would do the trick,” Mary said, making a lot of sense.

  “Another thing is bothering me,” Patty said quietly.

  “What’s that?” I asked, wondering just what else could be wrong.

  “The hybrids.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d been so selfish to forget them. “The hybrids,” I repeated, a flush coming over my skin. “Where are they?”

  “We thought they were trouble. As far as we knew, Leslie and Terrance were terrorists, and were the reason you were lost to us. They were killers, and we couldn’t trust the lot of them,” Patty said.

  Dread set in. “Where are they?” I asked again.

  “They’re in a prison in Russia. Half the world’s leaders wanted to ship them into the sun, but we compromised on prison. Forever.”

  She looked terrible, the guilt of their anguish evident on her face.

  “We have to do something!” I said, remembering the friendly faces we’d met in Long Island. Seven years in prison, and I doubted I’d get the same reaction from them. “I know where they’re welcome. I’ll send them there to have new lives.”

  She nodded, but it seemed a distant, noncommittal action. “If we get through this, you have my word that you can do just that. I’m sorry about Mae too, for what it’s worth.”

  An alarm chimed from the front of the room, and Daniel, the officer on the computer, called back to us. “General, you’re going to want to see this. Trouble in Terran Five again.” The screen showed us the white lizard-wolves stalking toward the city, this time in a different area. It looked like they were crossing a frozen lake.

  “Wait, they aren’t coming for the fence,” Daniel said as we watched them change direction. It was snowing, wind blowing fiercely, causing a white-out. He zoomed in a mile or so, and we spotted a blurry barn. A group of people were outside, surrounded by horses.

  “What are they doing outside like that in a storm?” Magnus yelled. He jumped on to a computer and tried for a few minutes to contact Terran Five. “No luck. The storm must have killed the transmission tower. All this technology, and we still use waves to communicate with each other. Come on, Dean. We have to go help them.” He tapped the face-to-face calling program, trying for any contacts under the Terran Five: Operations listing. They all failed.

  If those creatures were that close, I knew there was no way we’d make it in time, but we had to try. “Are the other Terrans closer?”

  “Good call. Dan, send a request for assistance to Terran Four. We’re taking a cruiser. Anyone else?” Magnus asked.

  Mary and Slate ran after us, heading toward the landing pad.

  ____________

  The ship was smaller than any we’d ever been on, more the size of a helicopter than anything I’d seen, but it acted much the same as the larger Kraski ships. Two seats up front, two in the back, and as much room as a cube van in the back for storage. The walls were lined with climbing gear, medi-kits, and weaponry: everything we needed for a rescue mission.

  We’d tossed on suits before getting on board, and they reminded me of the modified space suits from our recent adventure. These didn’t have the helmet attached, and though they were thin, their primary function was to fend off the cold, with an extremely high puncture rating. That would help prevent one of those lizard-wolves from biting our extremities off.

  “How far is Terran Five, exactly?” Mary asked, sitting up front with Magnus, who was acting pilot on the vessel. Slate sat in the back with me, his large frame tight against the undersized suit he wore.

  “Eleven hundred miles as the crow flies,” Magnus said, the landscape of the planet zooming by as we flew near top speed toward the Arctic-like city. “That makes our trip a quick twenty minutes. Those monsters can go fast, but they were skulking along that snow, the storm probably slowing them some.”

  “Why have a colony city in the snow?” Slate asked, breaking his contemplative silence.

  Magnus shrugged. “Why do people live in northern Canada or Alaska?” He waited for a reply. “No, seriously, if you know, tell me.” He barked a laugh, and when no one else followed suit, he continued. “They have resources up there. A stone much like diamond, that sparkles like a geologist’s dreams and conducts electricity better than anything we’ve ever seen. And it isn’t always snow-covered. Just three-quarters of the year.” This made him laugh again, and I joined in this time, for his sake.

  “Of course,” Slate said, his question satisfactorily answered. “Did those colonists lose a bet?”

  “You’re a funny guy, Slate. I think I’m going to like hanging out with you. We asked for volunteers, and after all everyone had been through, living in a safe place with everything you could need to survive, we didn’t have to do a lottery. We had all the positions filled in a week. We were as surprised as you are.” Magnus tapped some icons, and the ETA appeared on the viewscreen. Ten minutes to destination.

  “Did we get through to Terran Four?” I asked, and Mary sent a message to Dan back at the home base.

  “Dan says they left just after us,” Mary answered.

  “It’ll be close. Everyone ready? Shoot to kill. I know we’re the aliens here, and believe me, we do have animal rights activists on our asses here too, but lives are at stake. Stick together, and hopefully, we can extract the group before too much damage is done.” Magnus lowered us below the clouds, and instantly, we couldn’t see beyond the viewscreen. Snow enveloped the small vessel, but he had no problem flying it using the computer navigation system.

  The plan was to land a hundred yards from the structure in the video, and get between the oncoming creatures and the humans, if we weren’t too late. It took another minute for Magnus to lock in on the coordinates, and when he did, we lowered quickly to the ground, still unable to see much more than blowing white flakes as we bumped the surface softly.

  The doors hissed open, hinging toward the sky, and we got out, pulse rifles in hands. My heart pounded and sweat covered my back, a contradiction to the freezing temperatures outside. Why had we come with Magnus? Shouldn’t we have left this type of thing to the trained soldiers? Then it hit me: I was the only non-military among our group of four, and probably still had more experience in the field than half the actual soldiers now filling that role on New Spero. My confidence increased, my steps becoming firmer and my grip a little lighter on the rifle as I followed Magnus toward the barn we could just make out through the snowstorm.

  “You two go right,” Magnus called through our earpieces.

  Slate and I obeyed, cutting right to flank the people on the other side. Only when we arrived, there were no people standing up.

  The familiar hum of a transport vessel came at us from our other side, and soon another ship landed near us, armed men emerging from the doors, much like we had only moments ago.

  Magnus shook his head. “Damn it! We’re too late.”

  That was when I saw it. The half-eaten horse lay blanketed by a thin layer of snow, a pool of blood staining the white ground. The closer I looked, the more I saw signs of a struggle, footprints from both humans and animals mixing, but quickly being covered by the ever-falling snow.

  “They might still be alive,” one of the newcomers said to us. “These things will feed” – he pointed at the horse – “and drag anything else back to their nests. We have some at Four, but they’re smaller and fewer. Seen it a few times.”

  “Let’s go after them,” Magnus said matter-of-factly.

  “In this storm, we’ll be lucky to make it a mile without giving up,” the new guy said, the three other soldiers with him keeping quiet.

  “Look…” Magnus started to argue, but we all stopped short as we heard a small voice.

  “Help! Daddy!” it called from the barn.


  I ran toward the sound, gun raised just in case. “Where are you?” I asked, voice rising above the wind.

  A small figure emerged into the doorway, wearing a snow suit and a pink hat. It was a little girl, no more than seven years old.

  “I’m Dean. What’s your name?” I asked, knowing she would be terrified.

  “Monica. They took my daddy,” she said, fat tears arriving at the corners of her eyes.

  “Who did? The animals?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Which way did they take them?”

  She pointed to the west. “He told me to hide in here, under the hay pile. I miss him. We were out for a horse ride, and Queenie hurt her leg. The horse doctor lady came with some help. Then they came.”

  I didn’t have to ask who they were.

  “I like her.” The tears were starting to fall. “Isabelle, the horse doctor. She makes me laugh. Can you find my daddy?”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Isabelle. My sister was a veterinarian, and Magnus had told me she lived in Terran Five. It had to be her.

  “Guys, we’re going after them.” One of the men from Terran Four came over and gave Monica a heated blanket, ushering her toward their transport vessel. My friends nodded grimly. “I think my sister was among the ones attacked.”

  Mary’s eyes widened. “How’s that possible?”

  “I don’t know. The girl said her horse got hurt, and they were stuck out here from the storm, and a horse doctor named Isabelle came to help. That has to be her.” I was shaking with adrenaline and the need to stop talking and go rescue them.

  “Let’s go. These little bastards are cave dwellers, so we either attempt to follow the tracks being covered by more snow every minute, or we assume they’re going to the mountain three miles west of here and fly there,” Magnus said.

  “I’ll follow the tracks and meet you there.” Slate took off on foot. His pace was fast and efficient.

  “You heard the man, let’s get on the ship or he might beat us there,” Mary said, moving for it already.

  “You guys will never find them, and if you do, how do you know they aren’t already dead?” one of the guys from Terran Four asked.

  “We don’t know, and that’s why we’re going. Get that girl back inside the gates, and tell them what’s happening right under their noses,” I said before rushing toward the transport.

  Moments later, we were taking off, and if possible, it seemed the snow was falling even more heavily. As we neared the mountain, I felt a tugging I couldn’t explain. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I sat in the back of the transport, my blood starting to burn. I wanted to cry out, but I couldn’t.

  “Ma…ry,” I squeaked out through the pain. Her face turning to me was the last thing I saw before all went black.

  FIVE

  When my eyes came open, I was alone in the small ship. My body still ached, but the searing pain was gone.

  I felt for injuries and scanned myself for blood, but everything seemed normal, except for a throbbing headache. I moved to the medi-kit and shot myself with a small dose of painkiller, instantly feeling the thumping subside.

  “Mary, Magnus, come in,” I said into my comm, but no reply came. They must have known I was breathing, and had gone for the people first, hoping whatever happened to me wasn’t fatal. Seeing me passed out, but having to leave my side, must have been difficult on Mary.

  I threw on an insulated cap and grabbed any weapons I could fit on myself, along with a few rations of food and an emergency kit. One thing I remembered from those outdoor TV shows was you never went into a situation without being prepared. Especially heading into a mountain full of alien monsters, on a planet you’d just set foot on the day before.

  Satisfied I was ready, I lifted the door, exiting the ship. The cold hit me like a brick wall, and I ran through the blowing snow toward the mountains. The footprints were fresh enough that they were still easy to follow.

  “Dean!” a voice called thinly through the wind. “Dean!”

  Gun ready, I spun, only to see Slate running toward me. “You okay?” he asked. When I nodded, he asked where the others were. I told him what had happened, and he stepped closer, looking me straight in the eyes. “You look fine,” he said, and with that, we were off together after Mary and Magnus.

  “Did you see anything out there?” I asked, assuming he saw nothing but snow and ice.

  “Yeah. They dragged them along this path. There must have been some fight left in the people, because one of the creatures was limping along, left behind. It was hurt pretty badly, so I put it out of its misery.”

  The way he could casually talk about killing something always struck me as cold, but I think a part of me was only annoyed that he could turn it off when I held on to it so tightly.

  The signs of the creatures and their prey were everywhere as we neared an entrance to the hillside. The mountain was tall, reminding me of visiting the Rocky Mountains as a teenager. Foreign trees lined the countryside, and I tried to focus on the task at hand, knowing I would have time to study this new world once we got our people back. The wind bit at my face, but the suit kept the majority of me warm as we followed the footsteps and drops of blood into an opening in the rock wall. The stark contrast of red human blood against the snow reminded me we probably didn’t have much time.

  I tried the other two through the comm system, but either the storm or the rock was causing a disruption, and no one replied. The cavern opened up wide, and we turned our suits’ lights on, allowing us to see in the dimly-lit space. It looked like a huge bear cave, the kind you wouldn’t be stupid enough to run blindly into. We did just that, guns raised, ready for anything, but we saw and heard nothing.

  The large room got smaller, the ceiling coming down rapidly as we went, and soon we were stuck with a choice of left or right. The cave separated into two tunnels, and we didn’t know which one to take.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  Slate looked angry at having to decide. He was better at shooting first and thinking later, so this wasn’t his forte. “We could split up,” he suggested.

  “With no radio communication, that adds to our risk. Let’s go left.” I went with my gut, and Slate seemed happy with it. He took the lead, gun up and lights shining forward as he bulldozed down the ever-tightening hallway. When I started to worry we would get stuck, it widened again and opened into another cavern.

  “Where the hell did they go? Should we go back and try the other option?” I asked.

  Slate started to answer, but I thought I could hear someone calling my name, and I didn’t make out his words. An alien sensation ran through my body, akin to the racking pain from inside the transport vessel, but more subdued: clearer now. My feet were moving, but I didn’t recall telling them to. It was as if an outside force was pulling strings, and I was a puppet. The rational part of my mind told me to be afraid and wanted to panic, but I didn’t. I went along with it, taking comfort in the new control.

  “Dean?” Slate said my name, but he sounded miles away. I felt a tapping on my arm, but I didn’t stop and turn to him. I kept moving, flowing down the floor toward my goal. I wasn’t sure what that was, but it was close. So close.

  “Dean! Stop walking; you’re freaking me out!” Slate was in front of me now, his large frame preventing me from continuing. I bumped against him, getting angry that he’d try to stop me from getting to wherever it was I needed to be. My pulse rifle raised, pointing at his chest.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he yelled, moving away from my aim, which didn’t follow him.

  “I must get there,” I said, the words not my own, but from some part deep inside me. I could feel the blood pumping in me then, each beat of my heart pushing the life-force around my veins.

  “Get where?” he asked, but I was walking faster, leaving him in the cavernous room as I exited through another hallway. This one wasn’t as tight as before, and for the first time, I noti
ced carvings on them. The part of me that was being pushed down tried to force itself out, to warn me something was wrong, but I didn’t let it. The hieroglyphics became denser on the walls as I went, and I could make out the sound of footsteps following at a safe distance behind me. Slate wasn’t a threat, so I didn’t worry about him.

  The hall went on for a couple minutes before I reached my destination, which I knew the moment I crossed into the room. The energy was palpable, and my blood sang, thrumming in my ears like an airplane taking off. The LEDs on my suit flickered, and a small part of me wanted to scream. The other part was excited, ready for what was coming.

  “Dear God,” Slate said from behind me.

  A light illuminated thirty or so yards inside the room, starting out small: a clear gemstone, glowing blue suddenly. I stepped toward it and the light expanded, the drawings on the walls of the cavern burning hot blue as well.

  “Dean, I think you should stop,” Slate said, but he didn’t come anywhere near me.

  The room was at least one hundred yards wide, and I could see it all now, basking in the cool blue light. In each corner, manufactured pillars were erected, fitting from floor to ceiling. In the center of the pillars, which were spread out the full distance of the room, stood a table of sorts, made of the same material as the columns. The gemstone hummed a near-silent but constant song, and the blue rays pulsed in it, seemingly in time with my own heartbeat.

  I neared the gemstone, squinting against the bright light, and saw the table had small illuminated icons on it. There were at least fifty of them, each a unique image of hard lines and squiggles. My hand settled flat over them, moving of its own volition, and I heard Slate calling to me.

  The words were getting louder, and I turned to see him rushing toward me. I felt my finger touch down on the table. The icon it hit grew bright and bathed the entire room in green light. Slate collided with me, but something told me he was too late.