White Sands (4 page)

They had walked about half a mile before Jeff stopped in the middle of the road.

“Let’s go, buddy. We’re almost there. We can rest in a bit. Paula’s going to be worried sick about us,” Michael said.

“Dad. What is that?” Jeff asked.

Michael followed the boys’ stares to the skyline. Descending from the cloud cover was the most incredible thing Michael had ever witnessed.

Dozens.

No.

Hundreds of black ships, their sleek bodies reflecting the near-blinding glimmer of the sun. Within seconds, the entire sky was filled with ships. Michael reached for his boys as a series of thunderous blasts broke through the sky. The sound was paralyzing, bringing all three of them to the ground with their hands gripping their ears.

The shockwave hit a few seconds later, bringing with it a fierce wind full of sand, dirt, and pebbles. Michael pulled his kids toward him and draped himself over them again, wincing as the tornado of debris stung his body.

Several minutes of agonizing pain and it was all over.

Michael cracked his eyes open and watched the two remaining
ships. At first glance, they seemed to be hovering in place. But how was that possible? The ships had no propellers, no propulsion engines. In fact, he saw no sign of any engines at all. No country had that type of technology.

As the ships hovered closer he realized these were not of human design. These were . . .

Alien.

CHAPTER 7

T
IM
studied the holographic interface in front of him before reporting his analysis. “Based upon earlier trajectories, the Organics have likely made landfall, sir.”

Dr. Hoffman took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He’d done all he could: placing biospheres throughout the planet, procuring the
Secundu Casu
, the
Sun Spot
, the
Van Allen
, and creating a small base on Mars that would sustain a colony. Was it enough?

While he knew much about the Organics, there were still things he simply didn’t understand. Most important, he still didn’t know exactly what they would do to the human population. He knew they had come for water, this was certain. Dr. Tsui had briefed him on the images his telescopes had captured of the alien ships collecting the icy residue from comets and beneath the ice caps on Europa. There was no doubt they were continuing their quest to gather water throughout the galaxy. But would they leave any on Earth? Or would they simply suck it dry?

Dr. Hoffman shook the questions from his mind. He had deployed other “measures” to observe the invasion. In time he would have all the answers. And in time he would be restoring humanity’s greatness on Mars.

A series of sand dunes separated Michael from the civilian barracks. He couldn’t see over them, but the dense cloud of smoke bellowing into the air gave him a sinking feeling.

I’m too late.

“Stay here,” he said sternly, exchanging glances with Jeff and David.

Slowly, Michael trekked up the closest dune and dropped to his stomach. Sand seeped into his open wounds, stinging like hundreds of little bees. He grimaced but crawled farther. He had to know what lay beyond.

When he saw the smoking crater that had been the civilian and staff barracks he flipped over onto his back and looked down at his boys. Paula, his friends, everyone. They were all dead.

He tried to speak, tried to move, but his body was numb.

He’d broken his promise. Everything wasn’t fine. Everything was totally fucked.

When he saw Jeff and David looking up at him, he knew he had to get it together. For their sake. Whoever was piloting the black ships didn’t care about civilian casualties, which meant his boys weren’t safe.

Michael lay there for several moments, blinking rapidly. He had to think. Where could they go? Where would they be safe?

Over the wind he heard the distinct cough of a diesel engine. He knew the sound well. His father had been a truck driver after serving in the infantry.

But how did that make any sense? Diesel trucks hadn’t been used in years. Unless . . . he thought of his own pickup and the X90s. Something had knocked out their modern systems; maybe only the old tech worked.

He peeked back over the edge of the dune and saw two Humvees racing across the eastern perimeter of the smoking crater. A helmet with flaming-orange goggles bobbed up and down in one of the truck’s gun turrets as they raced through the desert.

Without hesitation, Michael brought himself to one knee and then pushed himself up. Waving his arms he shouted, “Over here!”

The guard tilted his helmet and locked onto Michael’s location. The man tapped the top of the truck and a moment later they had changed course toward his position.

“Boys, stay put,” Michael said, gesturing with his hand before starting the trek down the opposite side of the dune.

“Stay where you are!” one of the guards yelled.

Michael froze and raised his hands in the air. “I’m Michael Fitz with NTC Unit 5, second watch, Bunker 14, at the spaceport.”

The two soldiers exchanged looks and then one of them hunched over his turret to get a better view. “What the hell are you doing out here, man?”

Michael stuttered before he spoke. “I took my boys shooting at a range a few miles back.”

“You chose one hell of a lucky day to do that,” one of the men replied. “The base is under attack. We’ve lost contact with everyone. The only vehicles that work are the Humvees that were stored in a bunker underground.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. He had more questions than he had time to ask, so he simply said, “Hold on.” Limping back up the sand dune he motioned his boys up with his chin. “Come on guys.”

When they got to the top of the hill and could see the wreckage of the base, David let out a cry. “Was that?”

Michael grabbed him and pulled him close. He could feel the boy shaking in his arms. The worst feeling he had ever experienced as a father was not being able to take away the pain of losing their biological mother. Now he had to find the courage to explain their stepmother was gone too.

Letting go of David, he dropped down on one knee and locked eyes with the boy. “Son. Paula is gone.”

Tears raced down the child’s dirt-caked face, forming tiny trails where the drops washed away the grime. Michael bit his lip and scrunched his eyebrows together to hold off his own tears before pulling the boy back to his chest. He embraced him there for a minute, letting David cry into his shirt. When the boy finally stopped shaking, Michael stood and glanced over at Jeff. His arms were crossed and he was staring at the smoking crater behind the trucks.

“Listen boys. I need you guys to be strong. The country is under attack. I’m telling you this because I know you’re both strong enough to understand. These soldiers are going to help us find someplace safe. Okay?” Michael patted David’s head and made sure Jeff had heard him.

Another tear dropped from David’s eye, but Michael quickly brushed it away. “Be strong now. Paula would have wanted that.”

Jeff grabbed David’s hand. “Dad’s right.”

Michael could hear the two guards talking across their turrets. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever.

“Time to go,” Michael said, reaching for Jeff’s other hand. He led the boys cautiously down the hill and toward the trucks.

“Sir, we better get someone to look at your injuries,” one of the soldiers said as Michael stumbled forward.

“Get my boys somewhere safe first,” Michael replied. “I can wait.”

The inside of the truck was musty. It had been locked away in a bunker, so that wasn’t surprising. But the smell certainly beat the stench of Michael’s burnt skin.

Michael sat uncomfortably in the backseat. His arms wrapped around both Jeff and David. He was shielding them from his agony, trying not to show them how much pain he was in. At the same time he was trying to suppress his mental anguish. The pain of knowing he would never see Paula again was far worse than the pain of his physical injuries, but Michael also knew that he didn’t have time to grieve. He had to focus on saving his boys.

Both kids were quiet, staring out through the filthy window into the desert, watching the sun slowly set on the horizon. Michael took comfort in their peacefulness and closed his eyes as they drove deeper into the desert.

Behind the wheel was Jeff Oakley. Michael had switched shifts with him a few times. He didn’t know the man well but had heard that he’d seen action in Indonesia before he was hired by NTC. His small, shaved head had a nasty scar running down the backside. His face was a
bit
more respectable with a thick jawline, dark brown eyes, and a nose that was missing the tip.

They had been on the empty road for a couple minutes. Oakley hadn’t said more than a few words.

The suspension under the Humvee flexed as the tires sped over a
pothole. Michael gritted his teeth. The jolt sent a sharp pain up his spine. The drugs were wearing off. He needed medical attention fast.

“Any idea where we’re going?” Michael finally asked.

Oakley nodded. “Nelson and Connor both said the spaceport is the safest place right now. We lost radio contact with the base, but there are a few tunnels there as well. Even if the port has been vaporized we can still hide out underground until it’s safe. That’s the plan at least.”

“Do you know anything about those black ships?”

“Alien, sir.” Oakley’s words were fast and sharp.

The word
alien
sunk in faster than Michael thought it would. Perhaps it was because he already knew on some level. No country had the technology to build the ships he saw, especially not that many of them.

David grabbed Michael’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Dad, is Paula really gone?”

“Yes, bud, she’s gone.”

“Where did she go?” he asked.

“To the same place as your mom,” Michael said, pointing out the front window toward the skyline. The crimson tip of the sun was still visible over the horizon. Soon they would be shrouded by darkness.

Oakley slipped his helmet on just as the automatic head beams shot over the road. He switched them off manually with the flick of a finger.

Damn.

Michael cursed under his breath. He had left his armor back in his quarters. Without his helmet, he was going to be blind once they got to the port. Especially if the power had been cut. He tightened his grip on David’s hand and looked over at Jeff. The older boy had been mostly quiet.

“You okay?” Michael asked.

Jeff pulled his gaze from the window and looked his father directly in the eyes. “This has been one heck of a birthday,” he said sourly.

Michael couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. A drop welled up in the corner of his right eye. He brushed it away before anyone could see. Jeff was right. What should have been one of the best days of his young life had turned out to be a nightmare. And as the vague shapes of the
spaceport crept into view Michael knew the nightmare had only begun.

CHAPTER 8

O
AKLEY
parked their truck behind an abandoned building a quarter mile from the NTC spaceport. Several strange orbs glowed blue in the darkness, faintly illuminating the crumbling base.

Michael took another shot of morphine and crawled to the top of a mound of dirt where Connor and Oakley were scouting out the base. He’d left Jeff and David with Nelson, who was still perched in the other Humvee’s gun nest watching their six.

“What are those . . .” Michael couldn’t find the words to describe the large blue objects.

“Shhh,” Oakley replied.

Michael opened his mouth to respond just as the morphine kicked in. A current of numbness rushed through his body. He let his chin rest on the dirt and stared at the orbs. The dazzling blue light swam across his vision.

“What the hell is that?” Connor asked, his voice still muffled by his breathing apparatus.

Oakley didn’t respond. He scooted closer to the soldier and followed the man’s finger past the air traffic control tower and to a cluster of hangars on the eastern edge of the spaceport.

“Those buildings are the closest access to the tunnels that I’m aware of,” Oakley said.

“But what about those ball
things
?” Connor replied.

Oakley shrugged. “They don’t seem to be moving. What other choice do we have?”

For several minutes they watched in silence, the wind whipping against them. Without his helmet, Michael was essentially blind. If it weren’t for the mysterious glowing balls, his vision would be limited to the intermittent moonlight.

Near the aviation tower, several silhouettes crept past the glowing spheres. Michael squinted, trying desperately to get a better look as the outlines moved throughout the spaceport. Three luminous creatures stalked them from behind.

“What the hell . . .” Oakley said, pausing. “Are those people?”

“What’s that following them?” Connor asked quietly.

The answer came in the sound of automatic gunfire. Blue beams from plasma rifles cut through the night. The human shapes began to move swiftly. Michael watched them retreat into one of the hangars, the blue creatures just behind them.

“What the fuck are those things?” Connor shouted.

Oakley smacked him on the helmet. “Keep it down, man.”

Michael didn’t need the night vision or advanced optics of his helmet to see what was chasing the group. The thought was still incredible to him, but he knew what the creatures were.

Aliens.

Desperate screams broke out as the three glowing aliens closed in on the humans. The gunfire suddenly stopped and the shouting faded away in the wind.

“Fuck, we need to get out of here,” Connor whispered. He turned to slide back down the hill when Oakley reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Sit tight, man. We aren’t going anywhere yet.”

“Who the fuck put you in charge?” Connor replied. “We’re all guards. And until the watch commander shows up, I’ll do whatever the hell I . . .”

Michael knew exactly what the pause meant. He grabbed his rifle. Connor had seen something else—something behind him.

There were four creatures approaching the two Humvees from the south, their bodies spreading a gracious carpet of blue light over the desert.

Spiders,
he thought.

The creatures definitely resembled spiders, but with only six legs and a much higher bend in the joints. They were about seven feet tall with a stocky torso and small head sporting a bonelike mandible rimmed with black, jagged teeth. But it was their eyes that made Michael shake with fear. There were dozens of them, all different sizes, darting back and forth.

They’re hunting.

One heartbeat passed before the image sank in. By the second heartbeat, Michael’s paternal instinct took over. He looked away from the advancing creatures to the Humvee where he had left Jeff and David. The vague outline of their heads was visible through the tinted windows.

Michael felt the nervous kick of his heart for the third time as he watched the Spiders move quickly toward his boys, their high joints clicking as they scampered across the desert. The lead alien was seconds away from the Humvees—seconds away from Jeff and David.

“Nelson! Watch out!” Oakley yelled, pointing behind the trucks.

On his fourth heartbeat Michael swung his pulse rifle from around his back and leveled it at the trucks. By the time he was down the hill, the first Spider had leaped onto the first Humvee and then jumped onto the hood of the second, where Nelson stood guard. Nelson turned just as two of the alien’s claws tore into his chest. The creature lifted the man from the turret and into the air like a trophy, unleashing a high-pitched shriek through its mandibles.

The aliens’ bodies gave off just enough light for Michael to see a fountain of blood explode from Nelson’s chest.

The crack of gunfire followed, and the sound quickly drowned out Nelson’s screams.

Michael wanted to turn away, to pretend that what he was witnessing wasn’t real. But his boys were in that truck, and he’d be damned if he let the creatures do to them what they were . . . he suppressed the morbid thoughts as Oakley raced passed him.

The Spider tossed Nelson through the air and leaped from the roof of the truck into the sand. With frightening speed the alien positioned
itself between the men and the trucks.

“Shit!” Michael yelled in between bursts from his rifle. He concentrated the spray on the creature’s head, but every round seemed to bounce off.

Do these things have fucking shields?

He continued firing, until he heard the click of his dry magazine. Not a single round had penetrated the alien’s invisible shield.

Not a single shot.

Connor and Oakley ran out of ammo a few moments later. The Spider tilted its head and scanned them with dozens of eyes. Michael wasn’t sure if it was studying them or if it was waiting for the other three Spiders to join it before it attacked.

Michael could see David’s face plastered against the Humvee’s window. It pained him to know that his son was about to watch him get torn to shreds. But where was Jeff?

The blue light enveloped the men as the three other Spiders flanked them from all sides, their claws dragging through the sand as they slowly approached. The lead Spider released another shriek into the night. The sound was deafening, like something out of one of the
Jurassic Park
remakes Michael had seen as a kid—something prehistoric.

Before Michael had a chance to reload, Connor took off running. Two of the Spiders took off after him. Oakley simply slapped another magazine in his rifle. Somehow Michael had to figure out a way to get to the truck. He glanced over at Oakley and gestured to the truck with his chin. Oakley nodded.

Jamming his last magazine into his rifle, Michael concentrated his fire on the creature separating him from his children. A wave of sand suddenly exploded from behind the tires of the Humvee where his kids were trapped. And then the truck was moving, crashing into the Spider in front of Michael, crushing the alien under its weight.

Without hesitation, Michael turned to Oakley and yelled, “Let’s go!”

The soldier was already running toward the truck, the final Spider following close behind. Michael shouldered his rifle, squinted into the scope, took a deep breath, and squeezed off several rounds at the alien.
The concentrated fire was just enough to knock the Spider off balance. It stumbled over two of its legs and crashed into a sand dune.

The driver’s-side door popped open and Jeff’s head appeared. “Get in! What the heck are you guys waiting for?”

Michael peered at the boy in total shock. He considered asking him when he had learned to drive, but there was no time. He could see the Spider racing toward them through the reflection of the window.

“Let’s go, Dad!” Jeff yelled.

Michael nodded and turned to Oakley. “You drive.”

Oakley acknowledged the order by tapping Jeff on the shoulder. “Scoot over, kid.”

Seconds later the truck raced away from the remaining Spider.

Michael slouched down in the backseat and hugged David. He was shaking. Glancing up at him David said, “Dad, I thought you said aliens weren’t real. I thought you said monsters were just something people made up to make children be good.”

Michael opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t form. He had no response. Humans had always been at the top of the food chain. But in less than twenty-four hours they had dramatically fallen. At the top was a new species. An alien species. And based on what Michael had already seen, he had the sinking suspicion they were going to be at the top for a long time.