Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter 18

Alders Residence, Helena, Montana:
The figure moved silently through the darkness, slipping between houses and through yards while the unsuspecting populace slept. The blackness of the night was complete, as thick clouds hung low, blotting out the moon and stars. Even the lights of the city seemed muted, barely casting their soft glow against the underside of the storm clouds above.

Moving quickly, the figure continued toward its destination, before suddenly pausing as it moved up against one side of a wooden privacy fence. Fingers moved quickly over the wood and it turned its head from side to side, seemingly listening to something. A soft rustle of grass sounded and the figure dropped into a crouch, pressing closer to the fence, clearly intrigued. It hesitated only a second before it began pushing its hand into the ground.

On the other side of the fence, the possum froze, still sensing the danger that seemed to be emanating from somewhere nearby. It wasn’t smart enough to understand the concept of fences, but instinct told it to freeze and so it did. It never realized the mortal danger it was in until several whip like appendages pushed up through the ground around it. The thin tendrils quickly wrapped themselves around it, pulling it tightly to the ground and beginning to crush it flat. The animal issued a single hiss and high-pitched squeak of pain before several of the tentacles pushed themselves into the animal’s body and brain. The possum began to shiver violently as the alien presence began absorbing it, drawing out its blood and brain matter. In less than a minute, it was over. The tendrils withdrew themselves from the desiccated body of the animal and disappeared back into the soil

On the other side of the fence, the figure rose back to its feet and stood silently, allowing itself to process the life form it had just absorbed. The possum was a new encounter for it and even now, it was breaking down its DNA, absorbing its code for restructuring. After a few moments, it began moving again, zeroing back in on its destination.

The creature possessed a perfect layout of the city in its central processing unit and moved unerringly toward its target. Encountering no more distractions, it reached the residence of Homeland Security Agent Rick Alders in fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds. This was acceptable, but there were always improvements to be made. If it had to visit this building in the future, it immediately calculated that it could improve its transit time by one minute and three seconds with several minor course changes. However, as long as Rick Alders was present in his home, this would be the only visit it would need to make.

It stood in the darkness beneath a tree in the front yard, scanning the home. There was a single light on in the entryway behind the front door, but nothing else. For some time, it stood silently, surveying the home and scanning for anomalies. Finally, it was satisfied that there were no immediate threats to eliminate and it moved toward the front door. But instead of climbing the stairs to the porch, it immediately began sliding along the front of the house, a mere shadow in the dark. Its hands were out, fingers splayed against the brick, a single long roving tendril extending from each finger, searching the walls as it moved.

It quickly moved along the front of the house, then turned the corner and moved deeper into darkness, searching the side of the house. It paused when it reached a window, the flesh-like filaments from its fingers dancing around the sill and along the sides. It took only seconds to realize it had found a viable access point to the home. The tendrils quickly withdrew back into their respective fingers and the creature silently slid open the window. It effortlessly pulled itself up onto the sill and, a moment later, it was inside.

It paused, fingers once again splayed, this time on the floor. The extensions were out again, dancing over the floor, sensing the air about it. There was a presence in the house, but it was not human. Agent Rick Alders was not home. The other presence, however, would have to be investigated.

It began moving again, its body so perfectly in tune with its movements that it made no sound at all. It moved from one room to another, testing the air, seeking the life form that it sensed in the house. But while it made no sound as it moved, it could not mask its scent and a low growl met it as it entered into the home’s kitchen.

It froze as it faced the animal, a large biped that its vast knowledge base immediately identified as the canine breed of Rottweiler. This particularly specimen was a large male and its own scent told the creature that it was both angry at the intrusion and frightened at its alien presence. Still, the breed was commonly employed as a guard dog and anger drove it forward, the constant growl, an indication that it meant to attack.

A burst of speed and a loud bark preceded the charge of the animal, but the creature’s brain had already plotted the trajectory and force of the animal and was moving to safely intercept before the dog even leapt. Spinning to the side to avoid the snapping jaws, its hands danced through the air, the alien extensions tangling themselves expertly around the canine, suspending it in midair. Several of the tendrils immediately tightened, their bony edges surgically slicing through flesh and bone, severing the dog’s legs. The whine of terror and pain lasted only for a few seconds as more of the alien extensions suddenly appeared, larger ones from the creature’s torso and head. These quickly pushed into the dog’s body and brain and immediately began absorbing blood and brain tissue.

The feeding lasted only for about a minute, before the creature had absorbed the required nutrition and DNA. It discarded the dog’s remains, dropping it to the floor with its severed legs. Once more it paused, allowing its brain to begin processing the new DNA. Unlike the possum from earlier, which it simply cataloged as obsolete, the canine DNA provided it with enhancements to its own systems and it immediately began reconfiguring its body to utilize the heightened sense of smell and hearing. It would take some time to complete the remodel and most of that would occur during its dormant state. But for now, it could begin laying the groundwork while it explored the home for signs of Rick Alders.

Moving again, it searched the home from top to bottom, learning all it could about its target. The biggest trove of information was the computer sitting on a desk in the agent’s home office. The creature had no problem accessing the system’s hard drive, the fleshy tendrils that it possessed acting as electrical extensions that it plugged directly into the machine, drawing out the information that it required.

It discovered that Alders knew a great deal more than it originally thought it knew and that it had recently been in contact with a human by the name of Thomas Bolson. This was a human that the creature knew very well and the fact that Bolson was on his way to Montana meant that the creature would have to escalate its timeline. Expanding its target list to include Bolson and one Danielle Martz, who was accompanying him, the creature shut down the computer system and moved quickly back to the ground floor.

While the fact that Agent Alders had not been present was mildly problematic, the creature deemed its mission a moderate success because of what it had learned from processing both the canine and the agent’s computer. It would take some time to fully integrate the DNA improvements, but those changes were already well underway.

Moments later, it slipped back through the window, shutting it silently behind itself as it left. Then it was gone, melting back into the darkness of the night.

Rick Alders turned the key, shutting off his Ford in the driveway of his home. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his hand across his forehead and blew out a long sigh. Alders had been with Homeland Security for nearly a decade now and most of his cases took him out of town. This business with FutureTek, and now two unexplained murders in his home town of around 30,000, was hitting a little too close for his comfort. He had settled in Helena because it was remote and enabled him to separate the real world from home. It was all the more reason to wrap up his investigation and get the murderer behind bars.

He was still on the fence about Jon Sherrard. He had thoroughly reviewed Sherrard’s profile and, under normal circumstances, he didn’t think the man had it in him to kill Bethany Edwards. But this whole business of separating his conscious from his body to run around in cyberspace introduced a whole new aspect to the case, and it was one he could not ignore. There was no telling what was going on in Sherrard’s head these days.

There was also the matter of his wife, Jen. While Alders didn’t know Jen personally, he knew of her reputation. She’d been an agent with the CIA for some ten years before she retired completely and left the agency a few years back. He was somewhat perplexed at her…what was the word he was looking for…“plainness.” As a former agent, she should be forcing questions, formulating hypothesis, and trying her best to help bring about a resolution to a case that concerned her husband. But she was doing none of these things; she was simply the concerned wife, worried about her husband. To Alders’ trained eye, she was protecting someone. Or hiding from something. What it was, though, he didn’t know.

Then there was Drew Jackson, FutureTek’s leader. Here was a man hell-bent on business success and not one to take any of these delays lying down. Jackson had already worked him over several times, trying to get him to authorize the release of the technical specs to Systemtech to complete the buyout. Alders even had that particular tech giant’s boss, Michael Monroe, breathing down his neck about it. He knew there probably wouldn’t be any harm in authorizing the transaction. But he also knew that holding up the process might shake up the right people and cause them to make a mistake, something that might break the case wide open. So he was content to hold on to the technical data, at least for a little while.

Then, to top it all off, he had a meeting tomorrow afternoon with a new player in the game. Major Thomas Bolson hadn’t given him a lot of information during his request—no, his
demand
—for a meeting with him. What Bolson didn’t tell him, Alders did some digging on his own to discover. There were some perks with being a Homeland Security agent, after all. The most important piece of information was that Bolson apparently had a direct connection with the computer virus that had started this whole thing and now Bolson wanted to find out what he knew about it. Alders rather looked forward to disappointing the man.

With another sigh, he got out of his car and trudged up the front walk to his house. He unlocked the door and entered, snapping on the living room light.

“Max!” he called out, figuring his big Rottweiler was probably soundly sleeping in the middle of Alder’s bed upstairs. When he didn’t hear the telltale thumping of the dog bounding down the hall, he called out again as he headed upstairs. “Max?”

Nothing.

Max wasn’t in the bedroom and the bed was still tightly made. Max hadn’t been in it at all. Alders was suddenly on alert, and he pulled the Beretta from his shoulder holster. He thought about calling for Max again, but Alders knew the big dog well enough to know that Max should have already come running.

Something was wrong.

Alders moved quickly through the upstairs rooms, making sure nothing was out of place. He froze when he looked into his office. Everything was as it should be except for his desk chair. It had been moved away from the desk, although he always slid the chair underneath when he was done working. Someone had been here.

He moved quickly and silently back down the hall and then down the stairs. Moving from front to back, he went through the living room and into the dining room and then the kitchen.

Max was in the kitchen.

Or what was left of him.

Alders prided himself in staying calm in most situations, and he had never been one to be prone to emotional outbursts. But Max had been with him for nine years, ever since he rescued him as a puppy from a dog fighting ring he had helped break up in Idaho. Max truly was his best friend, and seeing the mutilated remains of him was more than enough to get the tears flowing. Crying silently, he quickly made sure the rest of the house was secure before going back and examining Max’s body more closely. It was hard to deal with, seeing his dog’s legs neatly severed and scattered on the floor and Max’s shriveled body lying next to them. But it was the body that he looked closer at, and he was able to see the various holes drilled into Max’s sides and his skull. He had seen similar wounds very recently. He only hoped that Max had died quickly.

Gathering his wits about him, he quickly dialed the local police. He related the break-in and the death of his dog, as well as the possible computer breach. The police department assured him they would have a cruiser there momentarily. After he finished with them, he called his own office and requested the head of security. They would be able to dig into his computer through the network and see what had been accessed.

His calls completed, he took the tablecloth from his dining room table and went back into the kitchen, where he placed it reverently over his dog’s body. He couldn’t bear to see it anymore. He was heading to the front door to watch for the police when his phone rang again.

“Rick,” came a familiar voice on the other end, a security geek named Jim Parsons who he knew from numerous cases over the years.

“That was quick, Jimmy,” he said hollowly, absently wondering how he was going to get over Max’s death. “What did you find?”

“They had full access.”