Orbs II: Stranded (12 page)

“Don’t they have an entire research division that designs AIs?”

“They do, but Irene was part of the deal. And she was worth every dollar.”

“Thank you, sir,” Irene replied.

“I see,” Alex said, strolling over to a translucent image of the Earth that was speckled with glowing blue circles. “What do these dots represent?”

“I take it you’ve seen the human farms.”

Alex shook his head. He’d seen a lot in the time he’d spent outside, but nothing that he would have classified as a human farm.

“Wait, do you mean the orbs?”

“No, this is something much worse,” Noble said. “You aren’t the only survivor out there, Alex. And this may be hard for you to believe, but there are millions of others. Only . . .” Noble paused as one of his crew members squeezed by them.

“Only what?”

“Come with me, I want you to see something.”

The two men walked through the gallery of monitors and holograms, maneuvering carefully past staffers who were busily analyzing a constant stream of data. When they finally reached the middle of the deck Noble stopped and rested his hand against a metal pole extending from the ceiling with two handles attached to it. This was not a modern piece of technology; this was a tool from the past. Alex wasn’t sure what the device was at first, but then he remembered seeing one in a military book his father had kept on their coffee table.

“Is that a periscope?” he asked.

“Ever seen one?”

Alex shook his head. “Not in person.”

“Most people haven’t. The navy stopped using them years ago. When NTC commissioned this ship and selected me as captain, I requested one. Why? Because I believe the best way isn’t necessarily the newest way. Our instructions from Doctor Hoffman were clear, but he gave me the leeway to carry out the mission as I see fit.”

“And what is that mission?”

Noble nodded as if he approved of Alex’s question. “We are to be observers only.”

Alex hesitated before responding. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Doctor Hoffman gave us strict orders. Do not interfere with the Biospheres. He didn’t want us to risk being discovered. Our job was to watch and document what was going on. But after realizing how bad things really were outside, I broke protocol and had my chief communication engineer tap into the channel. We’ve been trying to contact the Biospheres ever since.”

Alex had so many questions that he had trouble narrowing them down. “What about other submarines and military bases? The army, the navy, the marines, NTC—you said there were other survivors. Have you been able to reach any of them?”

Noble shrugged. “You’d think so, but we’ve only been able to get through to the Biospheres on the encrypted channel. If there are other subs out there, then they’re hiding just like us. I’ve tasked two of my communications officers with trying to make contact, but so far, nothing.”

Alex’s mind reeled. It was hard for him to believe the military was gone or hiding. Even with a bellyful of food and a bit of rest, Alex was feeling light-headed. He was still severely dehydrated—which reminded him he needed to piss again. The mere thought sent pain racing through his groin. He knew it was going to hurt.

“At any rate, we got lucky,” Noble continued. “With these old tools, we aren’t completely blind. Check this out.” The captain spun the periscope in Alex’s direction. “I had them include the most advanced fiber optic system on the market. You can see inside moon craters with this one. I’ve had Irene load some images we captured last time we used it. Go ahead and take a look, but be prepared for a shock.”

Alex grabbed the handles, pulling the eyepiece to his face. The captain was right; what he saw was beyond belief.

Are those really people?

Alex finally realized what Noble had meant when he had used the term
human farms
. The images were horrifying, revealing not one but hundreds of poles lining the beach in the distance. There was no way to determine how many humans were attached to them, and no way to determine if they were alive or dead.

Pushing the scope away, Alex felt a wave of dizziness rush over him. He tried to speak, but his lips were numb. His body was tired. He’d been on the run for so long. And now he had seen something that couldn’t be unseen. It was too much for his brain to handle.

Noble reached out to steady him, but it was too late. Alex’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the metal deck. He struggled to stay conscious, but pain pounded in his head as he lay helpless on the floor.

“Get us some help!” Noble yelled, crouching by Alex’s side. “It’s going to be okay. I’m sorry; I should have warned you first.”

“Captain!” Another staffer yelled from the back of the room. “Sir, you need to see this.”

Alex caught a quick glimpse of an older female NTC officer, her freckled face filled with fear.

“Sir, we didn’t pick anything up on radar. Whatever this thing is, it’s using stealth technology,” she continued.

“Irene, switch on the lights,” Noble ordered. “Lin, prepare to take evasive measures.”

The massive LEDs blinked on at the bow, shooting a brilliant beam through the darkness. The beams lit up a sleek black object. At first Alex thought it was another submarine, but as it crept closer, he realized it was something much, much bigger.

Alex squirmed on the floor trying to blink the stars out of his vision, but the booming pain in his head was just too much. Defeated, he closed his eyes and heard Irene’s Russian accent break over the com.

“Contact heading right for us, sir. Impact in T minus thirty-five point five seconds.”

CHAPTER 18

W
ITHIN
seconds, the first wave of Spiders exploded over a tangled mass of empty cars. Like hungry ants, they swarmed over the useless vehicles, scraping and clawing their way closer to the Humvee.

Overton scanned the highway for an escape route. A small ridgeline would provide them some cover on the north side, but the south was nothing more than an empty field of dead grass. If they tried to outrun the Spiders by heading west, the drone would catch them. The east was overrun with the advancing horde. There was no clear option.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his rifle, he looked at his men. They had been in the muck for weeks, and Overton was about to put them through more of it.

He scowled and felt the scars on his face stretch. Would he be earning a new one soon? He looked at his HUD to see only thirty seconds had passed since the drone had spotted them. Time was up. It was action time.

“Emanuel, give Kiel and Thompson your weapons. When I tell you to activate the RVAMP, you do it. Immediately. Got it?” Overton barked.

Emanuel nodded and handed his rifle and pistol to the two marines in the backseat just as blue light consumed the truck. The drone was hovering over them. Overton felt the engine die as the ship shot a beam of light at the vehicle, knocking out the electronics in one quick click.

“What’s happening?” Jeff cried.

“Stay here, kid,” Overton said as he tossed his spare electromagnetic
pulse grenade at Bouma. “Kiel, Thompson—you concentrate your fire on the horde after the ’nade goes off. Bouma, I want you to keep your fire on that drone. Do
not
let the beam touch you!”

The men nodded, and Overton grabbed his door handle. He felt the adrenaline pumping into his blood stream. This was what he lived for—this was what he was going to die doing.

He hesitated, and then took off his helmet. The electromagnetic pulse grenade was going to knock out his HUD anyway.

“Get it done!” Overton yelled, snapping the door open and jumping onto the blacktop. With one swift move he launched his last grenade at the Spiders and went down on one knee. He watched the device sail through the air and wedge underneath the tire of a minivan a couple hundred yards away.

Bouma fired first. The rounds tore into the drone above, ricocheting off its sides, and knocking the craft off its axis. The slight change in movement was just what Thompson and Kiel needed to move into position. Overton grinned and licked the sweat off his upper lip. The grenade went off just as the first Spiders passed the minivan.

A shockwave ripped through the aliens’ shields, knocking out the first dozen. But there were many more still standing. Hundreds. An endless army as far as Overton could see. And moving amongst the sea of blue was something large—something with a back full of spikes.

Jamie’s soft words echoed in Overton’s mind.
Those were the small monsters.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that he’d rescued the little ankle-biter.

“Holy shit,” Overton muttered. He squeezed off a few shots at the closest Spiders in an attempt to get a better look at the creature. As limbs exploded in all directions, he caught a glimpse of a pair of hooves, and a body covered in dark black scales.

What the fuck?
Overton thought. If this thing had armor, it was going to take more than a pulse grenade to bring it down.

Before he could get a target on the beast, another pack of Spiders moved in to replace the ones he had already splattered across the highway. Over the crack of gunfire, Overton could hear the massive creature’s hooves cracking the cement beneath its weight. Small tremors
followed the sound as the alien made its way closer. Not a sound he wanted to hear. He swallowed. Hard. This thing was like an alien tank.

He moved into a better position, checking his six to make sure the drone hadn’t flanked them. When he turned back to the horde, the sharp edge of a massive beak smashed through a cluster of Spiders, and Overton saw the face of the monster for the first time. He lowered his weapon in awe and watched the creature swing its beak from side to side, sending Spiders tumbling across the highway.

“Overton, what are you doing? Shoot that thing!” a voice shouted.

But Overton couldn’t pull his gaze away from the beast. It had the body of an oversized rhino and the face of a bird, with a long black beak the length of his pulse rifle. And staring right at him were . . . he counted them one by one.

Nine eyes.

“Overton! Snap out of it! Shoot that thing,” Bouma yelled.

The creature smashed through another group of Spiders, plastering the highway with blue goo. Overton couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of respect for the alien. It displayed a brute strength and domination over the Spiders.

It wasn’t until Overton saw the orbs lining the creature’s underbelly that he finally snapped out of his trance. He shouldered his weapon and yelled, spit exploding from his mouth. “Emanuel, how long until that thing is charged?”

A second of silence passed before the scientist replied.

“A couple of minutes, max!”

Overton looked back at the growing pile of body parts a few hundred yards away. Even if they were able to hold off the Spiders, this new alien was going to be on top of them soon. They didn’t have minutes—they had seconds, at best.

Overton fired off the last of his magazine and tossed his rifle on the ground. Racing back to the truck, he opened the passenger door and grabbed the mobile RVAMP from Emanuel.

“Show me how to work this thing.”

“Push here,” the biologist said, pointing at a button.

The marine didn’t reply; he simply grabbed the device and took off
running toward the swarming aliens. Bouma had pushed the drone north, over the ridgeline, but out of the corner of his eye, Overton saw a third pack of Spiders. The creatures burst over the hill, some of them tumbling limb over limb and forming a wave of swimming blue flesh.

They were about to flank Thompson, who was concentrating his fire on the aliens to the east. Before Overton could do more than shout a warning, they were on the big marine. Sharp claws ripped through his back and lifted his massive body into the air like he was a slab of meat. The pack swarmed, stabbing him repeatedly as he fired off rounds into the sky, the gunfire drowning out his screams. Bright red blood stained the cement, mixing with the river of blue goo.

Kiel turned to see his friend take his last breaths. “No!” he yelled, turning to fire his pistol at the swarm. The rounds bounced off the Spiders’ shields, and they continued to surge forward.

The sound of death filled the highway. Shrieks from the Spiders mixed with the snorting of the massive beast as it broke through the line of dead bodies. Legs, torsos, and claws exploded into the air.

Bouma and Kiel dove for cover, but Overton advanced. He wasn’t sure what the range was on the device, but he wanted to be as close as possible. His heart pumped adrenaline through every vein in his body. He could almost taste it.

When the beast was less than fifty yards away, Overton slid to his knees, bringing the device into his lap. He pushed the button and waited for the weapon to work. Nothing happened.

He looked up. The monster was racing toward him, bucking Spiders in all directions.

Overton hit the button again.

Click.

A shockwave ripped through the humid morning air. The beast approaching him let out an earsplitting shriek.

Overton watched as the alien’s legs gave out underneath its massive frame. With a crash, the monster collapsed onto the concrete and glided across the highway. The creature’s head smashed into a car, sending the sedan rolling into a ditch.

Overton stayed kneeling as the beast slid toward him. He closed his
eyes, waiting for the alien to smash into him and crush him with its enormous weight.

Seconds later, the highway was quiet. The Organics’ screams had dissipated. Cracking his right eye open, Overton looked up into the face of the new alien. Its beak opened and a slender blue tongue snaked out. With one last violent twitch, the creature released a cloud of rotten breath, peppering Overton’s face with chunks of blue spit.

He wiped it out of his eyes just as a small hand shook his shoulder.

“You did it,” Jeff said.

Overton kept his focus on the monster’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the orbs that had split open when the beast fell, nor at the distorted human bodies spilling out of the broken spheres. Instead, he looked into the alien’s twitching eyes and spat in the dying creature’s face.

“We need to go, Sergeant Overton,” Jeff said, shaking the marine’s shoulder more forcefully.

“The Humvee is toast,” Bouma shouted.

Wiping a slimy mixture of Organic blood and sweat off his forehead, Overton returned his focus to the situation at hand. Scanning the Humvee, Overton could see that Bouma was right. A thick plume of smoke rose from underneath the hood. Although the highway was littered with cars, they were all dead or wrecked.

“Bouma, find one that you can get to work. One with a hydrogen fuel cell might be our best bet,” Overton ordered.

While his men searched for a vehicle, Overton turned to watch the morning sun rising higher over the highway. The brilliant orange rays illuminated a puddle of red blood snaking out from under a pile of dead Spiders. A pair of boots were just visible beneath the gore, but Overton turned away. He couldn’t bear to look at Thompson’s remains. He’d seen too many of his men dead already.