The Dark Side: Alex Hunter 9

by Greig Beck

  He looked over his shoulder at his huge soldiers and felt supremely confident. If any American tried to stand in their way, Taras and Aleksi would pound them to moon paste.

  Borgan chuckled at the thought. “Moon paste,” he repeated, the sound echoing slightly in his helmet.

  They topped the rise, and saw the flattened plain with the recessed, single-story structure. There were camera and sensor pods situated around the perimeter, and also solar array beds a few hundred yards further out.

  “Look.” Grisha pointed.

  There was a solitary figure walking back to the base wearing a strange silver environmental suit.

  “Nice day for a walk,” Borgan said.

  The figure turned as if sensing them, and then stopped. Then waited for them as if he expected them.

  “Let us meet our first American moon man.” Borgan motioned forward and Grisha started the crawler again.

  * * *

  “What the hell is this?” Briggs leaned toward the screen of the external camera feed. “That’s our crawler, but who are all those people crammed into it?”

  Sam came and looked over his shoulder, and then his eyes widened. “One guess. And that’s the Boss they’re heading for.”

  Roy Maddock scoffed. “They could be coming to talk. Or they think we destroyed their base, and they’re coming to make some war.”

  “Do you think we should even the odds?” Briggs asked.

  Maddock grinned. “The odds are already against them.”

  Sam straightened. “Give me an exit. Roy, you’re in charge.”

  Sam headed for the maintenance room hatch.

  * * *

  Alex sensed the crawler approaching before it came over the lip of the crater. He continued on to the base but slowed, until it made an appearance and then began to head toward him. He wanted their attention. He knew it’d be the Russians, and if they’d come to talk, they could start with him. If they’d come for anything else, then it would finish with him. Either way, he had some questions for them first.

  Alex’s mood was already storm-dark after losing Vin, and when he was just a hundred feet from the maintenance bay doors he stopped and turned – there were five of them, and by their shape and size he guessed four men, one woman, with two of the guys big, the one in the rear even bigger than Sam Reid.

  Alex also saw that they were armed – so, as they expected, not just a science team or diplomatic approach then.

  The crawler stopped and the Russian team got out. Their obvious leader strode forward with the giant soldiers at his shoulders.

  Alex switched his helmet for short range all-frequency pickup, and could see that four of the Russians wore heavily armor-plated space suits and he knew it was some form of combat kit. It was confirmed; they weren’t here to make friends.

  “Kto zdes’ glavnyy – who is in charge here?” the leader asked.

  Alex responded in Russian. “As far as you’re concerned, I am. What do you want?”

  The man’s eyes blazed at the response. “I am Kapitan Yuri Borgan, representative of the great nation of Russia, and…” He pointed a thick, gloved finger. “… you destroyed our base,” Borgan seethed. “This is an act of war and the response will be commensurate.”

  “This base had nothing to do with what happened there. Your countryman, Olga Sobakin, told us she detonated the base by draining the nuclear rod cooling pond.”

  Alex saw the leader look to the small woman on the crawler, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. He also saw the big men start to move out into flanking positions.

  “And that is why your vehicle was left there, hmm?” Borgan replied. “We will come inside, use your communication equipment and also perform our investigations.” The Russian rested his hand on a sidearm. “Don’t make this … unpleasant.”

  “You’re not going in the base,” Alex growled. He strained to hold his anger in check, but he knew something inside him was becoming impatient. “Go home, while you still can. The moon would be a sad place to die.”

  “Indeed.” The Russian leader laughed derisively. “You are in our way.”

  “Last chance.” Alex waited.

  “I hope you can breathe moon air.” The Russian leader turned to the pair of giants. “Taras, Aleksi, move him.”

  The big guys advanced.

  “No guns,” one muttered in thick English, and then drew a long Russian flat blade.

  Alex didn’t know if that message was meant for him or his colleague as the other man drew his own knife.

  The first man came in at Alex slow to begin, but when he was close moved fast and confidently. He threw a looping right that Alex easily ducked under. But it was only a feint as the blade came next in a backward slice – a typical Russian Special Forces move – and grazed the plates of Alex’s suit, scarring, but not penetrating.

  Alex shot out a fist and punched the man in the chest. He heard him cough and step back.

  Not enough, a small voice whispered in his head.

  The man came again, and this time threw a punch with his entire shoulder behind it. Alex blocked the sledgehammer blow, but next came the blade headed for his lower ribs. This time Alex caught the blade in his fist. He snapped the steel, and let it fall to the lunar dust.

  He thrust a hand out to grab the man by the neck. Just as Alex was wondering where the other big soldier was there came an impact from behind, driving him forward. It was a coordinated move, for as Alex was propelled forward, the first man struck with a massive right uppercut to the chin of Alex’s helmet.

  The impact was enough to rock Alex’s head back inside the silver shell of his helmet and neck casing. He was held in a bear hug by the second man as the first came back at him.

  Alex wasn’t going to wait around for another of the big Russian’s hammer-blows so he kicked out, driving the big man back a dozen feet and sending him sprawling.

  Then he spun in the second man’s arms. Alex saw the man’s eyes go wide for a split second behind his visor as he realised he had left himself unprotected against one thing – Alex head-butted him with all his strength and their two helmets came together with a loud crack.

  A small star-shaped impact mark appeared in the Russian’s battle armor. Alex’s remained unharmed.

  “I want that suit,” the leader jeered. Then his voice took on a harder, impatient edge. “Stop playing – take him down!” he yelled.

  The first man drew his pistol, but before he could fire, Alex grabbed the gun hand and held it upward. The pistol discharged into the air, the bullet probably leaving the thin atmosphere and traveling on into space.

  The big man used his other huge fist to pound Alex in the ribs. After the second blow, Alex felt something crack that might have been one of the coolant tubes inside his suit.

  The second man returned to the fight and swung down with his knife at the back of Alex’s neck, trying to find a seam in the armor. But the joins held and the blade skidded away.

  Finish this, the voice urged from the dark place in Alex’s mind. Send them a message.

  The first man dragged Alex up, and for a split second, his vision turned to a hot, red furious hell. FINISH IT! the voice screamed.

  Alex shot out a fist into the huge man’s visored face with such force and speed that it penetrated the toughened shielding and crushed the front of his skull. Gases vented in a red mist from the broken visor glass.

  He withdrew his fist – now glistening and bloody – and watched the body of the huge Russian topple back like a felled tree. He spun, grabbed the second man, and lifted him above his head to bring his back down across his knee. There was a loud crack of armor and bone and also a groan of agony.

  More! the voice in Alex’s head demanded.

  With the man bent over his knee, Alex punched down with all his strength. The man’s spine bent in half, not just fracturing but totally separating all the disks. He let him slide to the moon’s surface.

  Now kill the others. There was hunger in the dark vo
ice now, and eagerness.

  “No,” Alex said, and rose to his feet to stare down at the two men.

  I think they got our message. There was a small laugh, dry and amused, and then: Felt good, didn’t it?

  He watched the first man’s blood on his hand dry, flake, and fall away like powder in the super-arid, near vacuum of the moon’s atmosphere.

  Three gunshots rang out, two striking him in the chest, and the last dead center in his visor, chipping it. The suit’s armor plating defrayed the impacts, but the shots still knocked him flat to the ground.

  Alex sat up and saw the two remaining men coming at him with guns drawn. The female rushed to kneel beside the remains of the first man. And then moved to the still living second man.

  The Russian with the gun raised it again. But as Alex got back to his feet, a silver juggernaut slammed into both Russian men and dragged the guns from their hands.

  Sam Reid stood over them, then reached down to grab one cosmonaut in each hand, lift them from the lunar surface and shake them like rag dolls.

  “Say the word, Boss,” he said.

  Alex approached. “Thanks, Sam.”

  Sam shook them again and pulled them close to literally growl into their faceplates.

  “Put them down.” Alex turned to the woman. “You – come here as well.”

  Sam slammed the pair together then threw them down, hard, where they sprawled, lucky to be in low gravity so no bones were broken. One pointed up at Alex.

  “You killed him! You’ll pay for that.”

  “No, you killed him. Now shut the hell up and remove all your weapons.” Alex waited two seconds. “Now!” he roared.

  The other Russian looked to his leader, waiting for a command. The men’s hands went to their weapons, but Alex knew it wasn’t to disarm.

  He lost patience.

  He pulled his gun with the thermal rounds and fired directly into the huge dead body of the Russian lying a few feet away. The bullet struck, ignited, and as the Russian woman scrambled backward, the body began to glow, then crumpled inside the suit before that too shrank to ash, with only charred bones and a few metallic components remaining.

  The Russian men stared for a moment and quickly withdrew pistols and knives and let them fall to the ground.

  “That is all.” Borgan said.

  One of the men got to his feet and cleared his throat. “I am leading a rescue mission for our base. It seems we were too late.”

  “Like I said, we had nothing do with that. Your own people destroyed the Lenin Base as there was an infection inside. That infection is now inside our base,” Alex spat. “And it is killing us.”

  “How? How is it killing them?” the woman asked.

  “Mostly they’re vanishing. Others are changing,” Sam said.

  “Changing.” The woman stepped forward. “Into what?”

  “Into not people anymore,” Alex said. “We don’t know where all the others have gone.”

  The woman turned to Borgan. “They could be in the mine.”

  Alex tilted his head. “The mine is still open?”

  She pointed to the crawler. “Your people left this crawler behind at our base.”

  “You saw them?” Sam asked.

  “No, but they must be in the mine as well. Where else?” Borgan replied. “We sent a team in to check it out. Any survivors may have retreated there after the base was destroyed. It was sealed and had an oxygen supply.” He shrugged. “Is logical.”

  Alex lowered his head for a moment. “Olga said that’s where everything started. With something they found in the mine.”

  “It’s just a mine.” Borgan looked from one of his fellow Russians to the other. He stopped at the woman. “Irina, yes?”

  “Mostly,” she replied.

  “And? What did they report?” Alex demanded.

  “We have not yet heard.”

  “Call them,” Alex ordered.

  Borgan stared for a moment then tried to raise his team members but there was no reply. He tried again. But nothing. He gave up. “Maybe there is no signal in the mine depths. Or interference from the radiation.”

  The seconds stretched until finally the woman spoke. “We should get back.”

  “Yes, yes.” Borgan looked at the remains of his fallen comrades and then back to Alex and Sam. “This is not over.”

  “It is.” Sam picked up the broken body of the second man and tossed it at Borgan’s feet.

  Alex walked forward. “If you come back, with aggression – next time you all die. We’re all in this together now. Protect your people, protect your craft, and protect Earth. Whatever this thing is, it tried to infiltrate our lander. Don’t let it get back home.”

  “What?” The woman shook her head. “But it’s just an infection, yes?”

  “This is now beyond an infection and is some sort of lifeform. It’s intelligent and aggressive. We need to quarantine it here,” Alex replied.

  The woman turned to Borgan. “We should hurry.” She turned to the vehicle.

  “Not in our vehicle,” Alex said. “That’s our property.” He and Sam climbed in and Sam turned to them.

  “Good luck.”

  Alex watched for a moment more as the trio trudged over the crater rim, carrying the broken body of the second man between them until they disappeared. He turned away.

  “Let’s go.”

  “They’re hiding something,” Sam said as he drove them to the maintenance doors.

  “Of course they are.” Alex brushed the last flakes of dried blood from his gloves. “And unfortunately, it’s a deadly secret. One we might have to make them tell us.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Deep in the mine, Stanislov and Anastasia stopped before a fortified door. The Russian Special Forces soldier shone his light around its edges.

  “Voloch,” he spat. “What could do this?”

  Anastasia’s eyes were round, and she could only shake her head as she stared at the huge door. It, and most of the wall surrounding it, had been peeled back.

  He turned to her. “Why is this fortification even in a mine?”

  “It is the partition to the research laboratories,” she whispered.

  He stared for a moment, trying to process what she said, but then turned back to the heavy door.

  “What, this?” he asked.

  “The metal door was the first barrier to sealing the mine off from the laboratories beyond. These double doors were a hermetically sealed airlock to create a sterile environment beyond. Or there once was.”

  “With breathable air?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. So, they could work unencumbered by their environmental suits.”

  Stanislov turned his flashlight back on the remains of the barrier, then shining his light further inside, he saw that there was no power, no light, and the inner airlock had been destroyed.

  “It’s been breached. An explosion,” Anastasia said. “Just like at the base.”

  “No, no explosion, there are no heat burns on the steel. It looks to have been blown outwards, but something other than explosives was used.”

  “Where are Chekov and Boris?” She peered in. “They should have reported this to us.”

  Inside they could see an overturned trolley and a pile of abandoned equipment. But there was no sign of their team members, or any of the crew from the base or the labs.

  “Gloomy. I don’t like this,” she said in a small voice.

  “I’m sure it’s much nicer in summer.” Stanislov grinned at his own dumb joke but was glad Anastasia couldn’t see it because nerves made the corner of his mouth tremble.

  She held up her light. “According to the schematics it should level out for another few hundred feet before we get to the main laboratories and storage rooms.”

  “Anastasia, I thought this was just supposed to be a mining project. And I also thought it was only supposed to be 150 feet of project tunneling.”

  “Anna, call me Anna. Only my mother calls me Anas
tasia.” She glanced up at him and they shared a brief, broken smile. “And it was just a mining project to begin with. But …”

  “But what? I need to know to do my job.”

  She sighed, and nodded. “But our military masters found another use for the privacy, seclusion, and distance – it was the ultimate firewall. So we extended the size and objective of the facilities.” Anna shook her head. “I would hate working at this place.”

  Stanislov exhaled and turned his flashlight to scan the walls and ceiling and then stepped through. “Come on, let’s get this over with and get out of here. I don’t like it either.”

  Inside, the long tunnel’s sides were fortified with lightweight metal beams that joined with lintel girders overhead. The aluminum alloy was strong, lightweight, and could be assembled and disassembled like Lego if needed. It was then paneled with sheets of the same material but coated in a gleaming white.

  Or it once was. Now the walls were dented, holes punched right through the surface sheets and everywhere there was chaos and destruction.

  “I don’t understand what happened here,” Anna said. “Looks like a war zone.”

  “Is this blood?” Stanislov stood at the edge of a large stain – a dried and dark liquid. Oddly, it still looked sticky, and he angled his light to get a different perspective. “It’s black. Lumpy. Maybe clotted blood.”

  “We should go back to the surface. Wait for the commander.”

  “No, our men are in here somewhere. Besides, anything that happened here, happened long ago.” He pointed with his light. “The research rooms would be sealed, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, then maybe they are there.” He started in.

  They came across piles of clothing, laboratory smocks: some torn, some simply discarded. Even trousers and underwear.

  “They took their clothing off? Why did they take their clothing off?” Anna shone her light around.

  “The labs are up ahead. Boris and Chekov must be down here somewhere. There’s nowhere else for them to go.” Stanislov continued on. He swallowed and found his throat had become bone dry. He paused to angle his lips to suck on the small tube that had a water bottle attached. The body-heat temperature liquid felt slimy in his mouth.