Precipice: The Beginning (18 page)

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Annie got down on one knee and cupped her hand beneath Abby’s chin. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Annie frowned as there was no response. “It’s okay, dear. Why don’t you go on in the tent and rest up.”

“God, I hope she’s going to be okay,” Erica told Annie as she watched her daughter step into the tent, moving without a word. She leaned inside and kissed her daughter on the cheek, rubbing her back gently. Not since she was a little girl had she been so cuddly and needy at bedtime. “Sweet dreams princess.”

Erica pulled back as Logan crawled his way into the tent, pressing his back to Abby and falling asleep as soon as his little head hit the pillow. Both mothers leaned into the tent to watch their children sleeping. Their faces pale and exhausted, but peaceful. Annie wanted to cuddle into the small available space within the tent to hold him, cradle him to her bosom as tightly as she could, but for now he needed the sleep. Poor dear had had the worst night of his life. One no child should ever have to endure. She motioned with her head for Erica to follow her out of the tent.

Annie took a walk down an aisle to their left, passing hammers, nails, screwdrivers, and other miscellaneous tools. She reached the end of the aisle and turned down the next one, seeing lounge chairs and patio furniture. She grabbed two of the folded chairs off their hooks on the wall and hurried back to Erica, not wanting to leave her alone too long. Annie had seen the look in her eyes. So very close to snapping, losing her sanity in the blink of an eye if allowed the time to process what had happened to them.

“This is exactly what we needed.” Erica smiled as she took the chair, unfolding it with a sigh of contentment. “I thought I’d never get to sit down.”

“We’re going to have to find some dry clothes for the kids soon. Can’t have them lying there all night in their soaked clothes. Might get sick.”

“Yeah, sure,” Erica nodded, her eyes wide and glossy. “I agree.”

“Erica?” Annie placed a hand to her knee.

Erica broke down before she could turn to Annie, releasing a long hard cry she’d held on to for far too long. The weight of this evening had been too much to bear, pressing down on her as if carrying an obese man on her shoulders. Erica pressed her hands to her face and leaned to the side, resting her head on Annie’s shoulder. Annie had set an arm around her, but she couldn’t play the comforter. She too was exhausted, taken back by such a horrific chain of events. Tears rolled from her eyes in a steady stream, dripping off her chin to settle into the hair of her neighbor. In one night she’d gone from homeowner to refugee. In a span of hours, all that she’d worked so hard for, her house, Logan’s safety and her own sense of what should be, now all tossed about like a mixed salad. Annie lowered her head to Erica’s and closed her eyes, falling back into her exhaustion as if it were made of silk sheets.

36

A
ndrews hadn’t brought much of an appetite with him. Too many hours spent watching news footage from around the world, each static report showing the same thing. Burning buildings despite the unrelenting rain, people screaming through the streets while unidentified creatures chased them. He had yet to see any footage of the creatures, nothing more than a tall brown streak as it ran past a camera. Andrews had had enough, at least for now. His eyes so dry they felt as if a hard blink might shatter them. So he’d left the comms room and taken a stroll down the hall toward the cafeteria. What an uncomfortable walk it had been. His every footfall echoed off the empty hall.

Andrews entered the cafeteria with his head down, blocking as much of the bright lights above as possible, his eyes red and irritated. At least the classical music had been turned off. He grabbed a bowl off the counter and received a generous helping of mushy goop. Hard to have an appetite when given something so visually unappetizing, but there was a special treat today. The kitchen’s maintenance staff had discovered seven boxes of oatmeal cookies; real, honest to God cookies that had been baked and everything. Andrews placed the small cookie on a napkin and set it beside his bowl, looking down on it as if he’d never seen a cookie before. It looked so small, centered in a square napkin no bigger than his hand, yet this cookie meant so much to him. When the world was tearing itself apart, leaving them isolated, he could still pick up this cookie and enjoy it, close his eyes and take comfort in the pure ecstasy of the small joys life could bring him. Just a little cookie. A reminder of home, a flavor caressing his tongue he’d thought he’d never again feel. Like discovering a long lost lover. So much worth in such an everyday thing. He lifted the cookie, careful not to grip it too hard or an oatmeal grain may flake off. His eyes rolled back into his head like a shark as he bit down, savoring every single bite as if this was the first dessert to have passed through his lips.

The moment was short lived, stomped flat by the heavy work boots of a small group of ten miners as they were led into the cafeteria. Andrews shoved the last of the cookie into his mouth and swallowed it quickly, not willing to give them the satisfaction of seeing him enjoy something. This was a very delicate environment, one that must be taken seriously and controlled by all means necessary. He himself must stay cold and vigilant, someone the men know not to mess with.

“I can’t believe we have cookies.” Edgar Reece set his tray down as he sat across from Andrews. “It’s like fucking Christmas.”

“Language,” Andrews scolds, shaking his head. “Remember our place here. We lead through supreme example.”

“Okay, sorry.” Edgar lowered his head as he ate, taking on his submissive role as all the security officers did in Andrews presence. Something about him, an intensity in his eyes maybe, told them all that he was not the kind of man to have on your bad side. “Still, it’s a nice treat.”

Andrews didn’t return his officer’s attempt at small talk, just allowed him a brief nod of agreement. Edgar just ate, keeping his comments inside as he always did. He was so thirsty for good old-fashion conversation and all the other security officers were just as tight lipped as Andrews. Alvin was a decent fellow, but Edgar knew he was on the outs with Andrews and that’s something he wanted to avoid at all costs, even if it was by association. So he would keep his loneliness to himself and remain a loyal terrier.

“I can’t wait for this drill to be over.” Edgar felt a natural smile bugging the muscles of his face to be allowed to surface, but he kept it down. “Must be a mighty powerful storm to delay transport of the supply ship and all.”

“You think this is all over some storm? Are you serious?” Andrews bore into him with a scowl. “Open your eyes. This is far too serious to be affected by a little squall. Whatever is happening to Earth may be nothing less than catastrophic to put us on a work halt.” Andrews leaned across the table, pointing his finger at Edgar. “We must keep the severity of this away from them!”

Edgar looked back over his shoulder, seeing the ten miners eating their food, normal men engaged in conversation, a laugh here and there. He had actually wanted to get up and join them, take comfort in their everyday conversations. But he turned around and faced Andrews.

“Look at this display,” Andrews snarled, looking past Edgar to the table of miners as they ate. “They don’t deserve such treatment.” He knew Edgar wouldn’t understand the complexities of his emotions, not with his limited range of intelligence. Another reason he wanted new security officers, men that heard orders and didn’t know the meaning of a follow-up question. No room for second guesser’s way out here. Andrews lost his appetite, pushing his tray across the table toward Edgar, his bowl half empty. “I have work to do.” Andrews stood.

“Aren’t you hungry, sir?” Edgar looked from the bowl to Andrews, filled with concern and hope. If he wasn’t going to eat his rationed meal, you can bet Edgar would be there to pick up the slack.

Andrews didn’t hear him. His eyes were locked on the long table of men. One of them, Jerome he thought, one of Daniels military brats, looked back over his shoulder and made brief eye contact. He watched him turn back to his friends and share a secret, leaning in to keep the conversation private. Then they shared a brief laugh. An actual laugh right before his eyes, most likely at his own expense. This was something he couldn’t stomach, not at this moment with so many troubling thoughts.

“Is he still there?” Jerome asked, looking behind him to a blur of color, standing still and out of focus.

“Yeah and he looks pissed.” TJ let out a single laugh, shaking his head. Leave it to Jerome to piss off the wrong people. “Wait, he’s gone.”

Jerome looked back over his shoulder and sighed. “I hate being stuck up here at the mercy of these guys.”

“At least we’re alive and safe from whatever this is all about,” TJ spoke over a mouth full of food. He picked up his cookie with a childlike grin, holding it beneath his nose. “Just like momma used to make. Cold and stale.” He smiled over the taste, enjoying it all the same. This was a real treat. A little taste of home.

“This shit is kind of scary.” Jerome looked up at the lights. “Must be serious if we’re running on auxiliary power. Otherwise why shut down the main breakers.”

“Precaution maybe.”

“Whatever.” Jerome kept his voice low. “They don’t know what the hell is going on and it’s freaking them out. Just look at any of the security officer’s faces. They’re ready to crack.”

“Andrews does look pretty unstable.”

“Oh please, TJ. That asshole always looks that way. But most of his little bitches look crazy now too. Keeping us under lock and key, moving us around in groups. Day by day this is looking less like a mining facility and more like a prison. Only the warden is millions of miles away.” Jerome shook his head, processing the possible scenarios of how this could play out. “I’ve never felt so far from home.”

“I guess if worst came to worst they could always fire up the supply ship.”

“Smooth thinking.” Jerome smacked his head with a mocking smile. “Whose going to pilot the mammoth beast? You?”

“Sean could.”

“Sean is a brilliant chopper pilot, but he’s no astronaut.”

“I bet he could fly just about anything.” TJ thought back to one particular mission, watching Sean land the chopper in a safe zone barely large enough to allow the chopper entrance.

“Well let’s just pray this is all some bullshit test from Earth. Checking the station’s stability or whatever.”

37

A
ndrews made tight fists, digging his well-groomed nails into the flesh of his palm, leaving half-moon shaped cuts. He took slow, steady breaths, calming his rapidly beating heart. He was having a panic attack. The hallway had become far too empty. Andrews looked left to right and then turned to look behind him; just a long, dark hallway from the cafeteria to his security command. The lights overhead were a dull reminder of how easily things could go from bad to worse. Even simple everyday things, such as light, became a precious resource. More valuable to him at this moment than a mountain of gold. What was wealth anyway when it came to survival? Money wouldn’t help him in the darkness when the lights go out, and they eventually will. They could generate their own energy, but supplies where out. Machines break down and require new parts. If this communication blackout with Earth continued indefinitely, how long until the men turned on him, wanting more food or better conditions despite such limited resources? How long until the lights go out and he’s left to scramble about in the dark with these men, these bastards?

Andrews pulled at the collar of his uniform, suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe. He turned toward the wall and pulled open a small metal box, entering a ten-digit code followed by a green button. The wall shook as the metal plating slowly rose up from the floor, revealing the red surface of the Martian planet and the blackness of space. Andrews pressed his hands and cheek to the cold, thick glass, tilting his head back to view the countless stars. So many of them. It was a rare occasion indeed to have the shielding lifted from the windows. Safety protocol recommended the shields be down to keep the facility and miners safe from sand storm debris or possible meteorites. This was the only portion of the facility that stuck up above the surface. Doing everything by the book, Andrews had insisted the shields be down at all times. But this was different. He needed to be shown that there was something beyond these grey hallways and dim lights. A world outside the window. One he could never walk on without the aid of an airtight suit, but there it was.

“Sir?” Alvin asked timidly, not entirely sure he should be interrupting Andrews’ little moment.

Andrews heard him, but didn’t respond. Alvin was one of his men but he knew he wasn’t with him. He could turn on him with the rest of the beasts. One minute a fellow officer, the next a snarling creature in the pit. No, he wasn’t going to let this falsity into his midst. He was much smarter than that.

“Is everything okay?”

“Right as rain.” Andrews lowered his head until his nose smashed against the glass. “Why do you ask?”

“Just checking in is all.” Alvin took a subconscious step back, folding his hands behind his back in a nervous stance.

“I can’t seem to see Earth.” Andrews tapped the glass with his finger. “I know it’s out there. Or at least I hope it still is. Somewhere out there in all that space…that blackness.” Andrews turned his head to Alvin, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you know where it is?”

“I think it’s on the other side of the facility.” Alvin hooked a thumb behind him, nervous by the distant look in Andrews’ eyes.

“Why do you like them?”

“Who, sir?”

“The men here?”

Alvin shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I like all of them. Maybe a handful really. Why?”

Andrews shook his head, turning to look out the window. “I just find it’s best not to get too attached to things, especially when they can turn on you like a rabid dog.” Andrews nodded, a wide grin as dark thoughts came to him. “But then again. At least little pups can be put to sleep.”

“Excuse me?” Alvin wasn’t sure he’d really heard what he’d said, but he knew he had. He hadn’t wanted to, but it was out there.

“Oh nothing.” Andrews entered the same ten-digit code and lowered the shield. “Carry on and keep them in check while we’re in alert.”

“Will do,” Alvin spoke up as Andrews walked off, lingering a moment in the hall as he watched him go. His stride unnaturally slow, just a bit off.

Andrews felt the weight of Alvin’s eyes on his back but didn’t dare turn around. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know he’d gotten to him. Instead he slowed his pace, put a little hop into it. Maybe things weren’t as black as the space all around them. He was safe from all this madness for the time being. Andrews turned the corner and entered the Comms room, thankful it was empty. He locked the door behind him and pulled up a chair. An instant feeling of comfort as Yuri’s face came into view on the screen. But there was a sadness to it. Pale flesh hanging with exhaustion and stress. He had heavy bags under his eyes, as if his tears had painted his flesh a dark purple.

“What happened to you?” Andrews kept his attention glued to the dark bags beneath his comrade’s eyes.

Yuri shook his head, closing his eyes with a deep breath. He looked up, locking eyes with Andrews for what felt like an eternity.

“Yuri?”

“I don’t remember my homeland. Not from the images I’ve seen.”

“What images?” Andrews leaned in close to the monitor, praying the link wouldn’t be disrupted. “I haven’t been able to receive any signals from Earth.”

“I don’t sleep anymore.” Yuri closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “I can still see the screaming faces of the women running through the streets before the beasts fell on them.”

“What beasts?”

Yuri opened his eyes. “The dogs of hell.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen them, running through the streets on all fours.” Yuri turned in his chair and pointed to a monitor behind him. “A television broadcast from Earth two days ago in Moscow. A woman holding a camera as she hid beneath a car. Watching, filming. All the people running past her, crying and screaming.” Yuri lowered his head into his hands, crying softly. The blood
o
n his cheek dampened, blending with the water to roll beneath the collar of his shirt. “Then she turned the camera to what they were running from. A beast made of twisted leather, dark green. Taller than a man and twice as thick. An abomination.”

“This can’t be.”

“Oh, but it can. It is. I saw the creature lift a woman off the ground by gripping the top of her head, pulling it from her body like a grape off the vine.” Yuri cleared his throat, taking a moment to collect himself. “The woman screamed and dropped the camera. End of footage. Since then I’ve seen nothing else.”

“What is happening?” Andrews shook his head, running the Russian’s story over and over again in his mind. He’d told him the whole story in English, but it still sounded so foreign to him. Something lost in translation.

“I do not know.” Yuri closed his eyes and leaned back, moving his lips slowly as if singing a song, words spoken too softly for anyone else to hear. He sat there for a good three minutes, leaning forward with a solemn face. “We must consider ourselves the lucky ones. God’s truly chosen people. The ones handpicked to survive.”

“To survive…” Andrews thought the phrase over.

“Yes, to live. And we must be so very careful, especially you.”

“Me?”

“Oh yes. In your position, so many men under your command, you must be careful.”

“Careful of what?” Andrews shifted in his chair, an uneasy chill shooting through him.

“You think those creature spreading across Earth are monsters and demons, but they pale in comparison to the true darkness of man. The beast we all carry within. Lock enough of us up, say within a space station or an off-world facility, and you’ve got a real case of terror on your hands. A struggle for survival.” Yuri leaned in close to the screen, his eyes filling the monitor. “Best to keep your men in line before they let fear get the best of them. Before they too become beasts. Otherwise, you too might find yourself running through the darkness with a monster on your heels.”

Andrews nodded, turning from the monitor to the door, realizing how many of them were out there. Miners with physical conditions far beyond his own, making it far too easy to overpower him. Dogs. Beasts. Filthy parasites that could turn on him if things got worse. Yuri was right. The real danger wasn’t a million or so miles off in space. It was here.