Winds of Darkness
Lee Alexander
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Alexis, Nick, Jess, and D&D for their help and dedication in getting this book out the door. A major thanks to my family for being the Alpha and Beta readers, even when it was just spaghetti on a notebook page.
Prologue
The large snake like creature writhed in my grasp. It hissed with pain and fury as I tore it apart. The body showered me in ichor as it ripped, a fresh layer of gore coating me. I grunted as I tossed the twitching halves aside.
From above, a low whistle rose into a shriek. The light of the descending fireball bathed the battlefield in ghoulish shadows.
I breathed in, expanding my chest as far as it would go. I let loose a bellow, far louder than anything a human could ever manage.
“INCOMING!”
The fireball impacted the ground some ways away, causing a gust of wind to buffet me. I wasn't sure if the firebomb had hit anything important to the battle. I took in the battlefield around me.
Dozens of the snake-like creatures surrounded me. Some lay dead, already icing over in the frigid atmosphere. Guts lay exposed, bulging and steaming through rents in their scaled flesh. Even stranger, the creatures had exposed bones that gleamed white in the firelight.
Beyond the initial circle of dead and dying, dozens more waited. They moved sinuously, waiting for an opportunity to attack me. Hisses carried well in the frozen air. One would lunge, testing my guard, while others closed the gap.
I stood loose and ready. They were large creatures, often more than ten feet from the crown of their head to the tip of their tail. I was larger. I didn't have a weapon, and I didn't need one. They were careful to stay outside my reach until they decided to commit.
Another careful look around the battlefield showed how dire the situation was. Fires burned in the trees surrounding the clearing we fought in. The flames were strange, likely due to the thin atmosphere.
The firelight glittered off the ice that coated everything. It was the only true source of light. The skies above were clear, but there was no moon visible in the sky. Instead, billions of stars burned brightly. The dark vault of the sky was too much, a stark reminder of what we had already lost.
I turned my gaze back to the ground, fending off small lunges from the aliens. I instead focused on what I could hear. Men and women shouted orders and information to each other between bursts of gunfire.
Screaming and crying could be heard. Some of my soldiers were wounded. I was too surrounded to help them, and felt nearly powerless as the circle tightened again.
Memory stole over me, even as I fought off a fresh wave of the snakes. I could see the world as it had been, superimposed over the world that was reality. Just months before, this was a peaceful park, green trees swaying in the breeze. Sunlight bathing the grounds as kids screamed and played, chasing each other.
Now, the darkness was punctuated by the muzzle flare of guns. Ice coated everything in sight. Darkness reigned. No sun in the sky. No moon. Only dark shapes far above, throwing massive fireballs to the ground we stood and fought upon.
Two men stood on the battlements of a wooden castle, paint faded by time in the sun. It had hosted countless battles. But where it had once hosted wars of childish fantasy, men now fought for their survival.
The soldiers’ machine gun emplacements belched fire and threw metal at fatal speeds. They tore whole crowds of the snakes to the ground. The roar of those guns alone shattered the stillness of the unrelenting night.
I charged into the nearest alien, giving everything I had to get to my soldiers. I pushed over and through the corpses of my enemies, adding new ones to their number as the snakes tried to prevent me from reaching my men.
Once more I inhaled the thin air, gathering myself to shout over the din.
“Retreat! Get inside!” One of the aliens took advantage of my distraction to lunge in. It slashed my arm, flaying it open. I grabbed the man-sized snake with my good hand and tossed it in the air.
It shrieked as it flew upwards. I held my injured arm up, watching as it closed. Then I arrested its upward movement by grabbing the end of the tail. With a grunt, I slammed it downward like a club. It exploded across the ground as its scaled skin ruptured.
The sound came again. A metallic shriek, like the growl of tinnitus taken to a new extreme sounded. I looked up to see a second fireball descending. Coming right toward us. Panic gripped me.
”Get to the bunker!”
I charged through the aliens, bowling them aside, giving no thought to the wounds I accumulated. I broke through their line, and snatched two of my nearest soldiers in my oversized hands. Then I turned and fled toward the base doors.
They rose more than twenty feet from the packed dirt, held aloft by enormous hydraulics hidden under the park. Even though there was nearly six feet of space above my head, I still had the urge to duck as I neared.
The soldiers continued to fire their rifles into the aliens behind us. The second firebomb struck the ground far behind me. The blast wave carried flames over me. I sheltered the soldiers as best as I could, continuing to run.
The soldiers I held screamed in pain as the flames licked over them as well. I struggled forward, watching the doors to the bunker recede into the distance. It seemed like the farther and faster I ran, the farther away the doors were. I felt like I was trudging through knee high molasses. I lifted my foot, fighting free of the murk. Shadows swirled around my legs, clawing their way up my body, filling me with cold dread.
A third firebomb began to descend. The telltale mechanical buzz grew in volume. The sound reached a crescendo as it hit the ground right behind me. The blast wave caught and threw me forward. Searing heat cooked the flesh from my bones and I saw darkness.
1
June 13, 2033
Greater Seattle Area, Washington, USA
92°F
0601 Hours
The buzz of my alarm clock tore me from my nightmare. I was screaming, thrashing in the bed. I stopped, and clarity slowly returned. Until a headache snuck up and clubbed me from behind. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned through the pain.
“Fucking alarm. Ugh, did you shit in my mouth, Spike?”
I carefully cracked an eye, looking straight at my cat. He turned his dour gaze on me, then looked away. Deliberate haughtiness in every movement. Buster, a barrel of a bulldog, chuffed with laughter. Then he loosed a far less pleasant sound.
His fart was rank and pushed me over the edge. I threw the sweat-soaked blanket aside and bolted to the bathroom. Bile rose up my throat as I fumbled with the toilet lid. I had it open just in time.
Puke sprayed across the porcelain and into the water. Blues and greens and purples, with the occasional flash of orange surfacing for a moment. My skin prickled with sweat. I sat back and heaved a sigh of relief. Then the alarm blared again.
I snatched it off the bathroom counter and viciously stabbed the first button I c
ould. Nothing happened. I took a breath, then carefully found the off button and pressed it, causing it to fall silent.
I ran an internal audit. Obviously, I had too much to drink the night before; I felt like hell; my head was hosting a competition between a speed metal concert and a rave. My joints ached.
I blamed my friends. Going out on a Sunday night might not have been a stupid idea, per se, but it hadn’t worked out for me this time. I preferred dark beers, not hangover-inducing, sugar laden death traps.
I climbed to my feet, feeling the hangover shakes set in. My limbs were jelly. I brushed the curtains aside and turned the shower on and set it to hot. I wanted to sear the alcohol out of my pores.
Buster flopped his fat ass in the doorway, huffing. He was an English Bulldog and basically a big, round cuddle-bug. But he could clear a room with a maniacal gleam in his little eyes. Then Spike strode right over Buster and into the shower.
Linda, one of my coworkers, had suggested I adopt a puppy to have someone happy to see me when I came home. I protested, saying I already had a cat. She stared at me and repeated ‘happy to see me’. I thought Spike showed love in his own way, but he was a cat.
I stepped into the shower and immediately grabbed the body wash. I scrubbed away, trying to remove the stench of alcohol and bile. After I felt clean, I stepped out of the shower and toweled off.
Once I was dry, I grabbed my electric razor. I shaved my stubble down, so I looked clean and presentable. I almost felt human again. I left the bathroom and started to get dressed.
I donned black slacks and a simple white button up. Then I turned to my tie collection. Corporate policy demanded a tie. My favorite was a horrendous tie-dye piece with polka dots. It caused nausea in sober people. Hunter S. Thompson would have been proud.
I diverted through the kitchen to leave food for my furry children, then headed to the garage. I quickly did the traditional pocket-pat. Wallet; keys; phone. Then I ducked into the car.
Then I shut the door and pressed the start button. It asked for authorization.
“Dante DeWisr,” I replied. It chirped, then the engine growled to life, and I told it to start for work. The car backed up, clearing the garage. I pressed the button above the center console to close the door. My car paused for a moment, then rolled smoothly onto the street, bumping from sidewalk to roadway.
The drive was normal, forty minutes of boredom and checking various social media as the car drove into the city.
Then an ancient silver Honda blew past me on the exit ramp I needed, careening out of control. They slammed side-on into the retaining wall, plastic and metal screeching across concrete, trailing showers of dirt and sparks. They disappeared around the corner, and I let loose a groan.
A moment later, I heard a massive crash, followed by another, then something like an explosion.
“Fuck me. Of course,” I grumbled. Then I navigated through a few options on the car’s infotainment center and dialed up my boss, Jessie. It was a few minutes to eight, so she sent me to voicemail.
“Hey Jess. I know you don’t want to hear this, but some fucking idiot went and tried to kill himself on the highway. Just jammed up the exit to our street. I know I’m going to be late. I’ll send pictures when I get closer.”
I hung up, resigned to my fate. Traffic was always a bitch, even with self-driving cars. I hated being late too. This would make the third time in three months. Which means Jessie would have to have an ‘official talk’ with me. She was going to hate me for that.
Time slowed to a crawl.
The morning was already sweltering, and the sunlight was blazing down the glass valleys of the buildings on all sides. The streets were lit as if the sun was directly overhead. Out of curiosity, I poked at the infotainment center in the dash to check on the weather. Ninety-eight degrees and rising. Projected to be nearly a hundred and seventeen degrees in the afternoon.
Record breaking hot for Seattle, and this was the third month in a row. I leaned back and stared into the sky. A few lazy clouds drifted by.
The car in front of me moved, and I switched to manual control and squeezed forward. This finally brought the accident into view. I came to a slow stop, nearly bumper to bumper with the car in front. The sight was amazing in its stupidity.
The idiot had crashed into another car, this one black. I couldn't tell the model from where I sat. The rear end of the black car was joined to the Honda, and the front end was lifted up, with water spraying out from under.
A fire hydrant was spewing water all over the sidewalk. The black car was all the way across the oncoming lane, with the Honda blocking the lane I was in. Nobody would be moving for a while. I bet the idiot that had been speeding would end up paying for the water too—and at drought rates.
He would definitely get dropped by his insurance. If he even had any—he was driving an ancient car that couldn’t even be auto-piloted. A cop was already on scene, sweating in the early morning heat.
Traffic was backed up in both directions, now causing the freeway to slow down to a crawl as people rubbernecked, trying to see what was causing the backup at the off-ramp. I groaned again.
A firetruck rounded the far corner of the street, coming directly at the accident. Their response was so quick, I figured the cop must have already been present when the accident occurred. Imagine that, a cop when you actually need one.
The firetruck slammed to a stop and a bunch of guys in full gear jumped off. They ran to the cop first, as I suddenly realized he was injured. He must have been in the black car. A closer look showed that the car had antennae on the crushed trunk and roof. That was not lucky for the speeder.
I thought ahead. First, they would have to get a tow truck to haul the Honda out of the way, then they would have to remove the busted police car. After that, they would have to find the mains shutoff for the block to fix the hydrant. This was going to take a while.
I set the car back to auto, but shut it off to save fuel. Then I cranked back and looked up through my skylight.
Weirdly, the sky looked darker than it had the last time I’d looked up. The tint of the sunroof wasn’t what was making everything look dark, the sky itself was darker. Maybe some storm clouds were building nearby, out of sight.
2
February 15, 2030
Location Classified, Eastern Seaboard, USA
0542
“Fuck this place,” spat Jessie. She looked up at me when I lifted an eyebrow to question her. “What? You hate this place too, Dante. That’s it, I’m signing my paperwork.” She shook her head fiercely, her white hair shimmering in the light. She was short, only five foot one, and maybe a hundred pounds. Not your usual military personnel.
Then again, we weren't in a normal branch of the military. We had both joined the Air Force, and were in the same flight during basic military training. She kicked ass, leading the way in everything. She never let her size hold her back. Especially when someone tried to talk down to her. She was a living wildfire, with a cute button nose to throw people off.
“Jessie, we’ve only served eight years. We have another year left on this station. Besides, it’s just basic intel work. We stare at pictures all day of shit that doesn’t change. Stars or sand, either way. No change from day to day. Let’s just finish up the year and then do something different.”
She glared at me. “Stars? They made you pick up the HORUS Project, didn’t they? When will you start standing up for yourself?! Anyway, it’s not like we do cool shit like your dad or great-granddad did.”
“Yeah, I get it. Dad pulled the freaking future president from the Twin Towers. Great-Granddad dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. They were involved in history. Yeah, they did cool shit but they died from the effects. My family is always neck deep in the shit, but that comes back to bite you in the ass. They both died of cancer. What it really is though, is you’re just pissed off because yesterday was Valentine’s day and you were stuck here.”
She punched me. Nearly as hard
as my dad would when we sparred. My arm knotted instantly, and I started massaging it and swearing up a storm.
“Fuck you. Besides, I’m the only person that’s allowed to pick on you. Who’s in charge of that Charlie-Foxtrot anyway?”
“Some dingbat named Turner. Haven't ever seen him around,” I said offhand.
I slid my keycard once the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Jessie glared one more time. Then she turned and walked briskly off. On my floor. Shit, on my floor. As in, to the HORUS Project. She wasn’t cleared. She was working on another project a few floors down.
I chased after her, still rubbing my sore arm. For such a small woman she could move fast. Blast doors opened a little way ahead of her, silent despite their heft. Heads popped up from behind dividers as we passed offices and cubicles. I ignored them and tried to catch up. She rounded the corner and slammed through the door to the HORUS project lab.
I caught up a moment later, and everything was in chaos. The lab hadn’t even noticed our arrival. Several other officers were running around, arms full of binders or paper.
The main screen showed a single image. It had a trajectory map across the Milky Way from a star roughly ninety light years away. We had been observing that star because it winked out without other changes a few years back. The trajectory was clearly of an object, but there was nothing in the shot.
Literally nothing, because it cycled through every spectrum available and showed a gaping hole where something should have been. It shot out of the star system for several years, and then around eighty-five years ago, it had turned.
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