White Sands
Author: Nicholas Sansbury Smith
Date: 2014-09-30 01:43:35+00:00
Keywords: Sci Fi & Fantasy; Science Fiction; Horror; Thriller; Adventure; Fiction
Description: Jeff and his little brother David were normal kids; they loved video games, fighter planes, and learning to hunt with their Dad. Little did they know, their lives were about to change. The boys and their father find themselves stranded in the desert when a military jet comes careening out of the sky and crashes directly into their car. Barely escaping the incident with their lives, and out of contact with the rest of the world, the trio must make the perilous journey back to civilization. But, downed aircrafts, stalled out cars, and mysterious glowing blue orbs litter the desert landscape. Slo
Publisher: Simon & Schuster

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ALSO BY NICHOLAS SANSBURY SMITH

ORBS SERIES

Orbs

Orbs II: Stranded

Solar Storms

THE TISSIAN CHRONICLES

The Biomass Revolution

Squad 19

A Royal Knight

WHITE SANDS

An Orbs Prequel

NICHOLAS SANSBURY SMITH

SIMON & SCHUSTER

New York   London   Toronto   Sydney   New Delhi

CHAPTER 1

DUST swirled around the streetlights before vanishing under the white afternoon sun. Jeff watched the motes pass from behind the dust-caked window of their car, then began counting the poles out of pure boredom.

Fifteen . . . thirty . . .

After a few minutes Jeff grew bored of that, too. He leaned over to his little brother, David, who was completely focused on his tablet. David swiped furiously at the screen before letting out a deep sigh.

“I lost again!”

“Give it here.”

“No. I will beat it!” David said, a little too loudly.

Jeff looked up nervously as their stepmother, Paula, shot them stern looks in the rearview mirror. “Is this how you two are going to act when you’re with your father? Do I need to remind you he has enough on his plate without having to worry about one of you getting into mischief?”

David looked up from his tablet sheepishly. “No. I will be good.”

Jeff kept his focus on the endless sea of sand dunes outside.

“Jeff?” she asked.

“Whatever, Paula. I won’t stress out Dad.”

There was a short hesitation in Paula’s nod. She cleared her throat as if she was going to say something but instead sighed. Jeff knew she was disappointed that he still wasn’t calling her mom, but he was never going to. His real mom was dead, and Paula would never replace her.

Jeff braced himself as the car accelerated. The short screech of the tires reminded him that Paula had a temper. Crossing his arms, Jeff caught her gaze in the front mirror one last time before leaning away from her view.

David had already returned his full attention to his video game, swiping at the screen even more violently than before. With a smirk Jeff scooted closer to his brother and whispered, “This sucks, but at least Dad is taking me shooting.” He watched David’s eyes widen and shift away from the display.

“Shooting?” The younger boy cracked a grin that showed off the newest gap in his baby teeth.

Jeff brought his fingers to his lips and tilted his head to make sure Paula wasn’t eavesdropping. “Shhh,” he whispered. “You aren’t supposed to know, but maybe Dad will take you, too.”

David’s smile broadened and he nodded confidentially. “Awesome,” he said, slowly enunciating the word.

Jeff would have been excited back when he was seven years old as well, but he was turning eleven in a few days and he wanted to spend his birthday with his friends, not at some stupid base. Even with the promise of a visit to the shooting range, he was less than thrilled.

The trip to White Sands Missile Range was an annual one. Each year they would visit their father, a guard for New Tech Corporation, at the new spaceport. In the past, Jeff had marveled at the shiny buildings and sleek spaceships. They were cool, and the other kids were envious of his trips. But Jeff had grown tired of his friends’ stupid comments.

“I heard NTC is conducting alien experiments over there,” one of them would say, or, “NTC is going to take over the world.”

Of course, Jeff didn’t believe any of it. He’d seen enough to know that aliens weren’t real and that NTC was just another lame security company.

Jeff returned his attention to the window as they passed a field of solar panels. The slender blue squares angled toward the sun, absorbing energy to feed the spaceport.

He sighed as he watched the panels zip by. The field only marked the halfway point of the drive and he was already bored. Reaching down, he pushed the air vent open onto his face and sank back in the leather upholstery.

“I did it!” David shouted, screaming in victory.

Jeff looked down at his brother’s tablet. YOU WIN scrolled across the screen.

“Give it here,” Jeff said, gesturing for the tablet.

David looked at him, his brown eyes studying Jeff’s face skeptically.

“Come on,” Jeff insisted.

“No!” David finally replied.

“Boys, what did I tell you!” Paula said, taking her eyes off the road for a second to look at them in the rearview mirror. “I really don’t want to repeat—”

A sudden boom cut her off midsentence. Paula slowed the car to follow a black . . . something streak across the skyline.

“Woah,” Jeff said. He watched it disappear under the glare of the sun.

“Is that a military jet?” David yelled over the thunderous noise.

Paula shook her head. “Hard to tell, but I thought the air force traveled in squadrons.”

Another blast shook the car as the unidentified ship changed its trajectory. Jeff raised his hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare. This was no air force jet. One of the few things he liked about visiting his dad was getting to see the newest military tech—jets that transformed into other jets, rockets that went completely invisible, and drones with guns larger than his whole body. This was not one of them. This was something different—something bigger and more sophisticated.

“I bet that’s one of NTC’s new prototypes!” Paula yelled.

The ship disappeared again in the thick cloud cover. David was already looking back at his tablet.

Jeff searched the sky, trying to catch sight of the aircraft again, but after a few minutes the sound faded away and was replaced by the hissing wind.

“I hope you get to see that one up close during your visit. Then again, even with his security clearance, I doubt your dad will be able to get you into the hangar,” Paula said.

The annoying ping of the turn signal filled the vehicle as Paula pulled her gaze from the sky. The car began to accelerate just as a deafening horn blared from behind the vehicle.

Slamming the brakes, Paula let out a cry. “What the hell!”

Jeff jolted forward in his seat, the belt tightening around his chest painfully. He caught a glimpse of two black Humvees racing by them at what he guessed were speeds in excess of one hundred miles an hour.

A cloud of dust quickly consumed their sedan. Paula sucked in several anxious deep breaths before turning to the backseat. “Are you guys okay?”

Jeff clutched his belt and looked over at David who was whimpering. The tablet’s screen had shattered against the car door.

“You okay, little bro?” Jeff asked.

David held up his shattered tablet up and whimpered, “It’s broken.”

Jeff could see a new set of words scrolling across the cracked screen. GAME OVER.

Peering back up at Paula, Jeff saw the tops of NTC buildings in the distance, their metal surfaces shifting in the heat waves. The buildings quickly vanished in a trail of dust as the Humvees sped onward.

With his heart fluttering inside his chest, Jeff couldn’t help but think that maybe this trip to White Sands was going to be more exciting than he thought.

CHAPTER 2

MICHAEL Fitz propped his robotic leg up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. The mechanical sound of his joints wasn’t loud enough for anyone to notice, but he swore that he could hear the clicking in his head. The limb had never felt like part of him. Even the flesh covering it was fake, and the artificial nerves had never really worked properly. Most of the time the leg was numb.

The intercom on Michael’s desk coughed to life and the voice of the NTC watch commander, Alexander Blair, replaced the clicking he knew wasn’t really there.

“Michael, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your family just got to Gate 1, but we are redirecting them to the civilian zone.”

Michael pulled his leg off the table and scooted up to the com. Running a hand through his thinning hair he said, “What? Why? Normally they get to come straight to the restricted part of the base.”

“Sorry, Michael. We have a situation. All civilians are to be redirected. Access to the spaceport has been cut off. You can see them when your shift is over.” Static replaced the man’s voice for a few seconds before Blair continued. “Not sure what’s happening, but these orders came from the top. Don’t get too comfortable. We may need you.”

Michael stared at the com in disbelief. There was a hint of nervousness in Blair’s voice. He’d heard the signs too many times during his tour in North Africa to ignore—the slight lilt, as if every word were a question, the pause. Something was very wrong. Hardened men like Blair didn’t get nervous without cause.

A hollow silence filled the small office as Michael lost himself in his thoughts. Situation? They had never had a situation before. Sure, there had been protests when NTC first started building the spaceport, a few bomb threats, and the occasional high school student that had tried to sneak his girlfriend into a restricted zone for “star gazing,” but nothing significant enough to lock down the base. The base’s security team had been able to mitigate any threats in the past.

Michael checked the time.

Shit.

He still had thirty minutes left to his shift. If there was a situation, then chances were he would be stuck at the spaceport until it was over. He might not be able to see his family until tomorrow.

Just my luck.

Michael stood and strolled over to his locker where a wrapped present sat waiting for Jeff. This year, Michael had finally decided the boy was old enough to have his grandfather’s rifle—much to Paula’s dismay, of course.

With a sigh, Michael grabbed his own rifle and shut the locker. After strapping the weapon over his metal armor, he slipped his helmet on and took a deep breath of the filtered air. It still smelled like cheap plastic.

NTC was the largest security and science company on Earth. The least they could do was equip their soldiers with a decent-smelling helmet. He took in another breath, grimaced, opened the blast door, and walked into the bright sun.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the glare he saw the reason for the heightened security. Just above the cloud cover, a ship the size of a small city was slowly making its way to the base. The craft was a monstrosity. He’d never seen one so big. It had to be NTC.

“What do you mean we’re being redirected?” Paula asked, her head angling out the open window.

“Ma’am. I’m not going to repeat myself. Access to the base has been restricted. You won’t be able to see your husband until his shift is over. Please take a right and head for the civilian quarters.”

Jeff couldn’t tell if the guard was frustrated or not. The man’s voice was muffled by his breathing apparatus. Paula, however, was about to blow a gasket. Her face was red, and had been since the two black Humvees had nearly T-boned their car earlier.

Paula let out a huff. “Fine.”

The tires screeched and Jeff’s head lurched forward.

“Jeez!” he blurted.

“Sorry,” replied Paula as she steered the car toward a cluster of buildings just beyond the guard post.

Jeff caught a glimpse of something on the horizon. Squinting, he climbed up farther on the backseat to get a better look. It was another ship, but he wasn’t sure if it was the same one they’d seen before. There was no deafening roar or quake that followed it as it maneuvered gracefully over the skyline.

“Jeff, please sit down while the car is moving.” Paula said.

He ignored her for the moment, hoping to get a better look.

She sighed and peered into the rearview mirror. “What is it now?”

“Nothing, just thought I saw something,” Jeff said, sliding back into his seat. He forced a smile and clicked his seat belt. When he looked up to gauge Paula’s expression he saw a convoy of trucks speeding down the road in their direction. They were the same sleek black as the two that had almost run them over earlier. He wondered where they were coming from this time.

“Cool,” David said, putting his tablet on the seat next to him.

Jeff pushed his face against the window as the trucks zipped by. He recognized the insignia on the side of the vehicles immediately. It was NTC’s main emblem; blue lettering with a white border and flames in the background. But he didn’t recognize the letters above it.

OOTAS.

“What does OOTAS stand for, Paula?” he asked.

“I can’t remember . . .” She paused and watched the convoy. “I think it stands for the Office of Technology and Science.”

Jeff watched the trucks as they passed. There were ten total. Sure is a lot of security for a bunch of scientists, Jeff thought. The trip was getting more interesting by the minute.

CHAPTER 3

CUT to the chase, Miss Carlson,” Dr. Hoffman grumbled. He looked out the tinted window and caught the gaze of a young boy staring at his convoy as it sped by.

“Sir, preliminary data suggests the Organics will make landfall in less than three hours. HQ is telling us to get the hell out.”

Dr. Hoffman didn’t flinch. He’d known it was coming for years now. Ever since scientists discovered the drone, Eve, he had been preparing. He had several pet projects that were assigned the highest level of confidentiality. The first were the biospheres he’d constructed across the world—advanced vaults that would ensure humanity’s continued survival during and after the invasion. His favorite project was the prototype spaceship, Secundu Casu, which he had overseen from start to finish. There were other ships as well, prototypes like the Sun Spot and the Van Allen. And of course, there was the colony on Mars. With the cards on the table, his bets looked pretty good. He’d spread his projects out over the Earth leaving humanity outs if one project failed.

He glanced down at his watch. The advance team of robots he sent up years ago would be finishing up the Mars facility just in time for the arrival of the first colonists.

It was all part of his master plan.

The look on Amy Carlson’s face, however, reminded him that the clock was ticking. They were running out of time to implement this bold plan.

Amy was bright red, a deep panic engraved in her features. Dr. Hoffman had never seen her like this before. She was only thirty years old. Young for an NTC vice president. But, he’d chosen her because she was a straight shooter, knew how to handle herself in dicey situations, and was respected by his other advisors.

He couldn’t really blame her for her anxiety. She was leaving behind everyone she loved for a chance at survival on another planet. Her loyalty to NTC was unwavering, but even Dr. Hoffman knew there were limits to what his employees were willing to give.

“Sir, more intel coming in over the net.” Amy paused to push her headset closer to her ear. “Jesus, sir,” she said, staring at him. “Satellite imagery has picked up the first images of the alien fleet.”

Dr. Hoffman felt a thrill run through his body. The sensation was something between excitement and pure fear. He’d been waiting for years to hear those exact words—words he always knew would come, but not this fast.

“How many?” he finally asked.

Amy maneuvered herself in her plush leather seat and crossed her legs, bringing the tablet to rest on her lap. With a quick flick of her index finger the screen glowed to life and a hologram warmed the backseat with an orange glow.

Dr. Hoffman leaned in and removed his glasses. “My god,” he said. At first glance, it was difficult to see the ships against the backdrop of space, but with a flick, Amy had added a new overlay, illuminating all of the crafts.

Hundreds.

No.

Thousands.

All heading straight for Earth.

Dr. Hoffman pulled away from the image and tapped the back of the driver’s seat. “Floor it, son! We don’t have much time.”

Michael stuffed Jeff’s birthday present into his backpack, throwing the bag around his shoulders as he checked the clock one more time. Five minutes until his shift was over. He’d already changed out of his uniform, and he hoped his replacement would arrive early.

Outside the small bunker, the sun was hovering high in the afternoon sky. A glare reflected off the sleek black spaceship that had landed moments earlier. A crew of NTC workers was already swarming the ship, inspecting every nook and cranny.

It had to be a new model. The ship was four stories tall, double the size of the other NTC prototypes, and the wings were twice as long. He estimated the wingspan in his head.

Holy shit.

They had to be over one hundred meters.

Michael stood there marveling at the craft. Besides a small strip of quartz glass near the cockpit, the ship was completely windowless. The black craft was speckled with hundreds of small hatches that would open once the ship was in space, deploying solar panels to help power the life-support systems.

The blare from a car horn startled him as he turned away from the spaceport. Speeding toward him was a convoy of black trucks. He took a step back from the blacktop to watch them pass.

The armada of NTC vehicles didn’t even slow down as they passed the front of his bunker, where his replacement, Jimmy, had just reported to duty.

“Want to explain what this is all about?” Jimmy asked. “I don’t see ten NTC trucks on the registry,” he said sourly.

Michael looked at the younger guard. He wasn’t sure exactly how old Jimmy was, but judging by his lack of facial hair, Michael guessed twenty-two was about right.

“Blair said they were restricting access to the base. Something’s going down,” Michael replied.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes and watched the black trucks park behind one of the massive hangers. “Is that?” he asked, pointing.

Michael followed Jimmy’s fingers to the crew climbing out of the trucks. In the middle was a man Michael had only seen on TV. Even from a distance, Michael could tell it was the CEO of NTC. The man was a legend, his face plastered across every screen in the world. He was also old. A living fossil and a rarity for a company controlled mostly by the youngest and brightest minds in the world.

“Looks like Dr. Hoffman to me,” Michael said.

“Why the hell would he be here?” Jimmy asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m not sticking around to find out. My family is at the civilian barracks.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold down the fort,” Jimmy said with a slight grin.

Michael nodded but didn’t turn to watch him retreat into the bunker. He was too busy trying to read the letters on the belly of the monstrous black spaceship in front of Hangar 1.

SECUNDU CASU.

Michael pulled his NTC pickup onto the curb and heard the sand crunch under the oversized tires. The parking lot for Building 33 was completely full. When Blair had told him they were redirecting visitors, he had no idea there would be so many. But then again, it was Memorial Day weekend and many other families were probably visiting soldiers and scientists working at the spaceport.

He slammed the car door behind him and shifted his backpack higher on his shoulders, making his way down the sidewalk toward his apartment. He walked with haste, knowing they had only a couple hours of sunlight left to get to the shooting range, something he had promised Jeff days before.

Paula wasn’t going to be happy, but it was Jeff’s birthday and the kid deserved to have some fun. Michael knew that his job put additional strain on the boys, and their annual trip was his way of making up for his absence at home.

Michael smiled as he entered the building and made his way down the carpeted halls. A caustic smell immediately filled his nostrils. For the first time in his career he would have preferred the plastic of his helmet. Whatever some family was cooking smelled like burnt rubber.

He held his breath until he got to his door and with a smile he turned the handle and walked into his room. “Happy birthday!” he yelled, dropping his pack to the ground.

Jeff and David rushed over, nearly knocking him over with hugs.

“Hey guys!” Michael said, patting David’s mop of brown hair. The child looked up at him with a frown. “My tablet broke.”

“Sorry buddy,” Michael said. He looked for his wife and found her sitting on the couch in the darkness. “Honey, you got a kiss for me?”

She rose and slowly paced over to the three of them. With her hands on her hips she said, “Something weird is going on. I don’t like it, Michael. I don’t know if it’s safe to be here.”

Michael sighed and hugged the boys one more time before grabbing his pack and joining her in the living room. Placing a hand on her shoulder he caught her gaze and said, “You’re right, something is going on. The big dogs are here from NTC, and there’s a new ship in the hangar. But there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Can we see it?” David beamed.

“I don’t think so, bud, but I do have something else planned.”

David looked up at him. “I get to go shooting?”

Michael shot a glare at Jeff. The boy wasn’t supposed to tell his younger brother, but he wasn’t surprised that Jeff had. Even at thirty-five Michael could still remember how hard it was to keep a secret as a kid.

“Sorry,” Jeff shrugged.

Michael glanced over at Paula. “We don’t have much time if we want to do this today. So why don’t you boys go grab a snack from the fridge while I talk to your mom for a second.” He shooed the boys away and grabbed Paula’s hand.

“I’m sorry about getting redirected. I honestly have no idea what’s going on, but I’m sure everything will be okay.”

Paula pulled a strand of brown hair out of her eyes and nodded. “I missed you,” she said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Missed you too,” he said before their lips touched.

“Gross,” Jeff said from the kitchen.

Michael laughed. “Bud, why don’t you check my pack, there’s something in there for you.”

The boy smiled and rushed over to the living room, tearing into the present while David watched from the couch.

Slowly Jeff revealed the shiny metal of a hunting rifle. The weapon was half the boy’s size. A relic from the past that had been passed down through Michael’s family for several generations. It was, in Michael’s opinion, the best way to train a kid to shoot. The weapon had a kick, unlike the newly issued pulse rifles. Besides, Michael couldn’t afford to buy one of the new weapons for Jeff.

“Do I get to shoot it too?” David chirped.

“No!” “Maybe.” Paula and Michael replied simultaneously. They exchanged looks and then laughed.

“We better get going,” Michael said, planting a kiss on Paula’s cheek. “Grab my pack guys,” he said.

Michael felt Paula tighten her grip on his hand. He glanced over at her. Her features had changed. Her eyes were darker. Frightened.

“Promise me everything is going to be okay,” she said.

Michael felt Jeff nudge him with the backpack, and he reached down to grab it from the boy before answering. “I promise.”

But as Michael guided his kids into the hallway, he felt a sharp pain in his gut—the same sinking feeling he had right before the battle that cost him his leg.

CHAPTER 4

DR. Hoffman clenched his fist. It was rare for him to feel frustrated. He wasn’t an irritable man. But over the past few hours he felt himself losing control of his fate and that of the human race. As CEO of the most powerful company in the world he was almost always in control. Today was different. Today, his plans had gone astray. Today, he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it off the damned planet.

“Get the quantum propulsion engines ready,” he snarled.

“Sir, I told you weeks ago. They aren’t ready yet. We’ve only tested them twice,” Robert Bailey, his chief engineer, argued. The bald man stared back at Dr. Hoffman from behind an oval pair of glasses that accentuated his beady little eyes.

Hoffman scrunched his eyebrows together. “I’m going to be very clear right now, Robert. If you want a seat on Secundu Casu, then you are going to listen to everything I say. Got that?”

The middle-aged engineer nodded and stiffened.

“You are going to fire up the engines, do a very quick systems check, and then we are going to give our pilots the green light to get us the hell off this rock.”

“Yes, sir,” Robert replied before turning to sprint back down a metal ramp leading into the bowels of the ship.

Dr. Hoffman continued through Secundu Casu with Amy close on his heels. “Sir, more info is coming in from the East Coast. The air force, navy . . . everyone. They’re scrambling, sending out all aircraft, warships, and submarines in response.”

Hoffman stopped to overlook Biome 1, wondering what it would look like when the dirt had been overtaken by lush crops. The artificial gravitational drive better work, he thought, before turning to Amy.

“Sir?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

Dr. Hoffman recognized the mannerism. Amy’s nerves were getting worse. Rightfully so. Everyone was nervous. He was nervous. But nothing he could do or say would help the US military or any military prevent the inevitable. The Organics were coming and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.

Now, he was at peace with his decision to place biospheres across the world and leave some strategic NTC assets in place to monitor them. If he had informed the government years ago of the Organics’ imminent arrival, they would have wasted his time trying to find a way to fight back. There was no way to fight back. The magnetic technology Hoffman had researched years ago now seemed like nothing more than a futile attempt to piss the aliens off. He was an old man, and with his age he’d learned that poking a hornet’s nest was never a good idea. Especially when you didn’t know if you could win.

All they could do was run, hide, and hope the Organics wouldn’t chase what was left of the human race to Mars. Dr. Hoffman suspected they would be safe there. The Organics had already turned the planet into a desolate wasteland—he didn’t see any reason for them to go back.

The white glow of the sun guided Michael’s NTC pickup through the desert like a beacon. The lightly used trail was almost invisible after last week’s dust storm. Fortunately, he had the coordinates saved in his handheld GPS. Modern technology at its best.

The thought reminded him that he still had his NTC radio clipped to his belt. He glanced down nervously at it. Michael was still waiting for a message from Blair, telling him to hightail it back to the base, but until that message came, he was spending time with his boys. Chances were high that the extra security precautions were simply due to Dr. Hoffman’s visit.

Through the rearview mirror, he watched Jeff’s and David’s heads bobbing up and down as the truck traveled down the rough path. “How’s school going guys? Your mom says you’re both doing pretty well.”

Jeff looked out the back window. “Paula never stops bugging me about my homework. She’s annoying.”

Michael gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, sensing an argument brewing. Hopefully he could get them to the shooting range before one broke out. “That’s her job. She is your mom.”

“She’s not our mom,” Jeff replied quickly.

Nope, Michael mused, too late. An argument had already reared its ugly head.

“She is your mom, maybe not your biological mom, but she’s done a pretty good job, hasn’t she?” Michael asked.

“No,” Jeff replied.

Michael shook his head. A few hundred feet away he could see the makeshift shooting range. Perfect timing, he thought. Exhaling a long breath.

“We’re here,” he said, deciding against further argument. It was, after all, the kid’s birthday.

A gust of wind struck Michael in the face as soon as he opened the door. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the mixture of sweat and sand off his red cheeks. When his vision cleared, he scanned the dunes in the distance. The tips were shifting ever so slightly.

“Shit,” he mumbled. The wind was picking up. Not good for training a first-time rookie on a rifle with a kick.

Michael trekked through the sand to the back of his truck and reached for Jeff’s rifle. The stock felt firm in his hands, strong, even after all these years. His father had given him the gun along with the semiautomatic assault rifle. The assault rifle would be David’s when he was old enough, but today there was no way he was going to let the boy shoot it. The recoil was just too powerful.

He met the boys at the front of the truck and peered over at the crudely made range. A wood board was propped up with several bricks about two hundred yards away. Several empty soda cans had blown away, sprinkling the sand with litter. Michael had expected this would be the case and prepared by bringing his own sack of cans. The trick was going to be getting them to stay put in the wind.

“Let’s set up here,” Michael said, crouching to grab a plastic bag out of his backpack. “Jeff, you stay with David. I’ll be right back.”

Michael checked that the guns weren’t loaded and then propped the rifles against the side of the truck. Glancing one more time at the boys he said, “Don’t touch anything.” He watched them both nod and then ran across the sand, ignoring the numbness in his artificial leg. When he got to the board he began filling the cans with sand to weigh them down and placed a dozen on top.

Perfect.

Shielding his eyes from the wind he rushed back to the truck where Jeff was staring at his new rifle. “This thing is so cool!” the boy said.

Michael laughed. “I thought the same thing when I was your age.”

David chuckled. He sat cross-legged in the sand, scribbling the image of a spaceship into the dirt with a twig.

“Give it here,” Michael said, grabbing the rifle from Jeff. He reached in his backpack for a magazine and said, “Watch very carefully. The first thing I am going to teach you is safety.”

He jammed the mag into the bottom and heard it click. He flipped the gun over for them to see. Then pointing to the safety he said, “This is how you know if the gun is loaded and ready to fire. The gun can only fire when this is red. You should only handle a weapon when the safety is on unless you are ready to fire it.” Michael flipped the switch back and forth so they could see. Shouldering the weapon he looked downrange through the scope.

“Okay, now put your ear gear and glasses on. This gun is much louder than the ones you see in movies.”

Slipping a pair of earplugs in, Michael aimed the rifle downrange. Gripping the trigger with his index finger he lined the sight up with one of the cans. With a measured breath he steadied the rifle and pulled back on the trigger. The recoil wasn’t as bad as he remembered, and he was able to watch the top of the can disappear into the wind without falling off balance.

“The scope still works,” he laughed, pacing over to Jeff. “Okay, your turn, bud.” Michael flipped the safety back on and helped the boy shoulder the weapon. “Make sure it’s tight here, otherwise you’re going to get a nasty bruise. In fact, you might get one anyways, but that’s part of the fun. War wounds to show your buddies.”

Jeff nodded and looked down the sight.

“See the red crosshairs?”

Another short nod.

“Feel pretty comfortable?”

One more nod.

“Okay, last thing before you fire. Never ever point the gun at anyone. After you are finished firing, point the barrel at the ground. Got it?”

Jeff looked up from the scope and smiled. “Got it, Dad.”

Michael patted the boy on the back and retreated to the truck. David peered up from his doodling. The younger boy suddenly looked very curious.

They both watched the first three shots go wild, kicking sand into the air. David flinched at each shot and giggled, but Michael said, “That’s okay, Jeff. It takes awhile to get the hang of it. That’s a thirty-round clip. You have twenty-seven more shots to go!”

Another nod and Jeff squeezed the trigger. The next five shots disappeared into the sand, but the sixth blew a nice-sized hole in the board.

“There you go bud,” Michael said.

Jeff squeezed off a few more shots and finally found one of the cans. The bullet sent the can sailing into the distance.

“Yeah!” Jeff yelled.

“Cool,” David replied, still cupping his ears.

“Good work,” Michael said, stepping up behind Jeff. “David, you want to give it a try?”

Jeff looked up at his dad through his eyewear. “Paula would crap her pants!”

Michael smiled. “Paula’s not here. And if you boys promise not to tell her then—”

A massive explosion roared in the distance. The aftershock sent a tremor ripping through the ground. Bracing himself against the truck, Michael scanned the skyline for the noise. Miles away, where a few metal towers from the base peeked over the sand dunes, he could see a black ship shooting into the sky.

He watched the ship, confused. It wasn’t heading across the skyline toward another base or city. The ship was heading straight up. The ship was heading for space.

CHAPTER 5

HOW much time do we have?” Dr. Hoffman barked, his voice fading against the roar of the ship’s rockets. He tried shifting in his seat unsuccessfully, but the soft memory foam had already conformed to his body. He wasn’t going anywhere until the ship reached orbit.

A holograph shot out of the interface built into his seat and settled in front of him. Data scrolled across the display. One key number caught his attention.

Sixty thousand mph.

It was the approximate speed of the Organic fleet. Not very fast for a race capable of interstellar space travel, but this was an invasion, not a sightseeing trip across the galaxy.

The aliens would now be less than two hundred thousand miles from Earth.

The window for escape was closing by the minute.

Dr. Hoffman blinked as the information settled in. He scanned the tiny compartment that he would have to endure for the beginning stages of the flight. It was small, built for only four people. Amy sat to his right and her assistant, Tim, sat to her right. The other seat was empty. His chief science officer, Dr. Tsui, hadn’t made it out of Houston in time.

It was a shame really, considering the man had helped Dr. Hoffman with so much of his own research. There was nothing to be done now, however. The ship was finally off the ground, tearing through the atmosphere on its way into orbit.

A tremor rippled through the compartment as the ship climbed higher.

The image of the Organics’ fleet that Amy had shown him earlier crept into his mind, and he cursed under his breath. They should have jumped ship sooner. They should have left when they still had the chance.

“Ma’am, I’m picking up some chatter over the net,” Tim said. He pushed the headset against his ears as another vibration shook the compartment. “HQ just patched a message through from the Pentagon. The air force has every available bird in the sky.” Tim smiled and winked at Dr. Hoffman. “We’re ready to blow these alien bastards back to wherever the hell they came from.”

Dr. Hoffman closed his eyes. He almost laughed at the young man’s ignorance, but a wave of nausea struck him instead. He couldn’t blame Tim for being cocksure. Dr. Hoffman had purposely left most of his staff in the dark about the threat the Organics posed to the human race. If he shared everything he knew, civilization would have descended into chaos years ago. Only a select few could be trusted with the knowledge, and Dr. Tsui had been among the small circle.

“Any word on the Sun Spot?” Hoffman asked. “Have they launched?”

Tim grunted as a vibration roared through the compartment. “Last I heard, the ship was en route to Offutt Air Force Base near Omaha. The team is scrambling to get there.”

Hoffman winced. He had a feeling that this would happen. “They better get off the ground soon.”

Another violent quake shook the Secundu Casu. The entire ship groaned. Dr. Hoffman felt the memory foam readjust around his body, tightening as the vibrations grew. Gripping the harness around his chest, Hoffman prepared for the ship to enter the mesosphere. They had only tested the quantum propulsion engines a few times. He prayed that they would hold up. This was supposed to be the easy part. They weren’t even through the stratosphere yet.

The ship lurched forward, jolting his insides against his rib cage. Amy let out a soft cry as the force took hold of them.

“This should only last a few seconds!” Dr. Hoffman yelled.

“I sure hope so, sir,” replied Amy.

Dr. Hoffman closed his eyes and tried to relax his head. When he finally opened them again, the blue screen was relaying video from the ground. He watched a squadron of black X90 air force jets race across the desert toward some distant city. Dr. Hoffman began mentally calculating how long it would take until every single jet in the world would become a burning hunk of scrap metal.

There’s no way in hell that’s a test flight, Michael thought. He grabbed the rifle from Jeff and motioned the boys toward the truck with his chin. “Get in, guys. We’re leaving.”

“But we just got here!” Jeff protested, kicking the sand with his tennis shoe.

“Yeah! I want to shoot too,” David added.

Michael didn’t reply, he opened the driver-side door and threw his backpack onto the seat. The boys stood at the front of the truck staring downrange.

“Come on guys! I said let’s move.”

Michael tucked the rifle into its sheath and lay it down carefully on the bed of the truck next to his assault rifle and company-issued pulse rifle. When he returned to the front of the pickup, the boys were still staring into the distance.

“Guys?”

“Dad, what is that?” David asked, pointing to the sky.

Michael squinted and followed the boy’s finger. Just below the cloud line, six tiny black dots were flying across the horizon. Michael could tell from a distance that they were X90s, the air force’s response to Russia’s newest stealth fighters. Unlike previous models, the X90s were small. Just large enough for a single pilot. They were the last of their kind in a military taken over by drones.

Shielding his eyes, Michael studied the jet formation. They had likely taken off from Holloman Air Force Base and appeared to be flying toward the spaceport.

But why the hell would they be doing that?

He looked down at his radio expecting to see a missed message from Blair, but the screen was dark. The commander would have certainly informed him of a threat, wouldn’t he?

Michael’s hand twitched nervously as he reached for the radio. With a single flick, he hit the relay button. White noise crackled over the com.

The signal was dead.

“Shit,” Michael whispered. He glanced over at Jeff and David, who were still fixated on the jets. Clipping the radio back on his belt, he took a deep breath. He had to get them back to base. With his radio down, Paula would be worried sick. And if there was something going on, he needed to get her and the kids off the base before returning to his post.

Michael shooed David toward the truck. “Get in,” he said sternly.

The boys both frowned but finally obeyed their father, climbing into the truck and exerting several groans.

Michael jumped in after them and started the engine. He ducked under the mirror to get one last look at the squadron of X90s. Every blink, the jets got closer. Based on their trajectory he had no doubt they were heading for the spaceport.

“You guys buckled in?” Michael asked, spinning to check on Jeff and David. They nodded, staring back at him with wide eyes.

“Hold on,” Michael said, his voice stern. He switched the truck into all-wheel drive with a flick of the control panel and pounded the gas pedal into the floor. The tread kicked up a cloud of sand. Twisting the steering wheel 360 degrees, he turned the truck toward the base.

Michael didn’t want to scare his boys, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized something was very wrong.

The country could be under attack.

The thought released a flow of adrenaline into his bloodstream. He’d made a promise to Paula that everything was going to be okay. A promise he fully intended to keep.

He focused on the road. Losing his cool now wouldn’t do them any good. He had to stay calm. Like a man possessed, his eyes darted from the sand ahead to the rearview mirror where he was tracking the jets. They were quickly catching up with the truck. In seconds the X90s would fly overhead.

Michael caught a glimpse of David and Jeff. David reached out for Jeff’s hand who took it in his own.

“It’s going to be okay guys. We’ll be back soon. Safe and sound,” Michael said in the most reassuring voice he could muster. As he shifted his focus, something flashed in the rear mirror just above David’s head.

A second later another flash caught his attention. Were the jets changing course?

“What on earth . . .” Michael eased the truck to a stop and spun to look out the back window. One by one the X90s began to shake violently. Their noses then turned a sharp ninety degrees and dove toward the sand below—directly at Michael and his boys.

“Oh my god,” he said, slamming his foot against the pedal again. This time the engine puttered, shook, and died. He flicked the start button, but there was no response. The truck was dead.

A sinking feeling gripped Michael’s gut, anxiety rushing through his body. For the first time in years, he felt the intoxicating fear of war.

“Dad?” Jeff shouted.

Michael snapped back into motion. He didn’t need to turn around to see what the boy was looking at. Six jets were headed right for them. Ticking time bombs that were about to rain down fiery hell if he didn’t get his kids out of there.

Jumping out of the truck he rushed to the backseat, grabbed Jeff’s hand, and yanked him onto the sand. The boy fell to his knees while Michael reached back in for David. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the black jets spiraling through the sky. He didn’t have much time.

“Come on David!” Michael yelled. The boy was curled up against the other door crying. There was no way Michael was going to get him to move without force. Sliding on his stomach he grabbed David’s hand and pulled him across the seat.

Holding the whimpering child in his arms, Michael turned just in time to see the first X90 crash into a sand dune a few thousand feet away. The jet exploded in a poof of flames, sending red-hot shards of glass and metal soaring through the air.

An incredible wave of heat engulfed Michael before he had a chance to react. By the time he dropped to shield his boys, he could smell burning hair. The ground shook as he draped his body over Jeff and David, the skin on his back burning from the overwhelming heat of the explosion.

Several more short quakes rippled through the ground as the other jets began smashing into the sand around them. Michael risked a short glance behind them just in time to see a wing sailing through the air. He closed his eyes and pulled the boys closer.

CHAPTER 6

DR. Hoffman felt surprisingly relaxed. With the Secundu Casu free of the mesosphere, they had made it through one of the biggest hurdles of the flight. Now all they had to do was avoid the armada of alien ships heading for the planet.

The holographic interface displayed the Secundu Casu’s current trajectory. They were now in the thermosphere, orbiting the Earth until the pilots could plot a new course around the alien threat.

He scanned the diagnostic reports again. The quantum propulsion engines were one hundred percent functional and the centrifuge tucked deep inside the ship’s hull was producing near-Earthlike gravity.

Dr. Hoffman smiled. The Secundu Casu was operating better than he ever imagined. A fantastic victory in a day that was turning out to otherwise be a disaster.

A few feet away, Amy moaned. She had thrown up several times during the flight and was not adapting well to the artificial habitat. Dr. Hoffman had made it a point to get time in NTC’s simulated environment for at least thirty minutes a day, but even that hadn’t prepared him for the real thing. He was just relieved all the technology was performing properly. If the artificial-gravity centrifuge hadn’t worked, then the ship’s biomes would be worthless and his crew of fifty handpicked personnel from around the world wouldn’t last more than a week. Dr. Hoffman knew how fragile the systems were and, presuming the ship could slip past the aliens, they still had six months of flight before they would reach Mars.

Dr. Hoffman reached over for Amy’s hand, stopping just shy of touching her. “Are you going to be okay?”

She faked a smile and then gagged, dry heaving into a tube that sucked the liquid into an opening below her seat.

Modern technology, Dr. Hoffman thought, trying not to grin. It had cured cancer, created artificial intelligence, and taken humanity to the stars, but could it save them from an alien race? He’d gambled fifty trillion of NTC’s bankroll on the construction of the biospheres, the Secundu Casu, the Sun Spot, the Van Allen, and the facility on Mars with the hope that it would.

So far it was money well spent, Dr. Hoffman mused.

“What are you hearing over the net?” he asked Tim.

The bald man shifted his skinny tie uncomfortably. His small body shook noticeably. “We lost contact with HQ shortly after we left the stratosphere. It doesn’t make any sense . . .”

Dr. Hoffman cleared his throat. “Makes perfect sense.”

Tim shifted his tie again. “What do you mean, sir?”

“The Organics have activated the same magnetic disturbance that caused the solar storms of 2055. I don’t imagine we’ll be hearing from anyone on Earth ever again.”

Amy threw up in her tube.

Dr. Hoffman focused on the blue screen. The feed had panned to an orbital shot of the planet. Somewhere beneath the cloud cover, Earth’s defenses were going dark. He could almost feel the terror gripping thousands of air force pilots as they lost control of their billion-dollar aircrafts and billions of citizens on the ground as they watched the ships rain down on their cities. But, the experience would be nothing compared to what those lucky enough to survive the first stage of the invasion would feel when they saw the black alien ships descend.

Yet, Dr. Hoffman felt no remorse. He had gone to great lengths to ensure the human race’s survival. The death of billions to save a population large enough to reproduce was, in his scientific opinion, worth the sacrifice.

Michael peeled back his eyelids but couldn’t manage to keep them cracked for more than a few seconds. His head was filled with a fog that he just couldn’t lift. His ears, his back, his legs; everything felt like it was being stabbed with tiny needles.

His body was on fire.

What had happened?

Reaching blindly in front of him, he attempted to crawl across the ground and felt soft grains of sand filter through his fingertips.

The desert.

The last thing he remembered was kissing Paula on the cheek before he left with the boys.

Panic replaced pain as he thought of Jeff and David.

Where are they?

Forcing his eyes open, he stared into a cloud of smoke and remembered the X90s. He remembered the explosions and the wing sailing through the air.

Michael stumbled frantically across the sand calling their names. “Jeff! David! Where are you?”

The pounding in his ears made it impossible to hear a response. He continued pushing himself forward, desperately searching for them. He ignored the stabbing pain racing through his body. He didn’t even want to see what his legs looked like. The smell of burning flesh told him enough.

After several seconds, the pounding in his ears lessened and the sound of muffled coughing broke through the hissing sand.

Thank god.

He froze, trying to get a location, but the blowing smoke made it nearly impossible to see.

“Jeff! David! Where are you?” he shouted again.

Then the tiniest of voices.

“Over here.”

Michael squinted into the wind, covering his mouth with his handkerchief.

There. Not five feet away were two small bodies lying in the sand. He rushed over to them and dropped down on his mechanical leg. It was then he saw the flesh hanging off his robotic joints. The skin around his ankle was seared black. He was either in shock or the artificial nerves had been severed.

“Guys!” he shouted, pulling away from the gory sight.

“Dad,” David cried.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” Michael asked the boys as he searched David’s small body for injuries.

“I’m fine,” Jeff said. As a gust of wind cleared the smoke, Michael saw Jeff sit up and brush the sand off his jeans. The kid didn’t have a scratch on him.

Michael turned back to David who continued to whimper. He too looked free of any major injuries. Michael took a deep breath through his handkerchief and dropped on his butt.

“Dad, your leg,” Jeff cried out.

“I’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt much.”

David stopped crying when he saw the mechanical parts inside his father’s leg. “Cool,” he sniffled. “You’re, like, Ironman.”

Michael tried to grin, but another surge of pain jolted his body. His leg had taken the brunt of the shrapnel, but his back had been cooked by the flames. The back of his shirt was stuck to his burnt skin.

He needed to get the boys back to the base before he went into shock. A wave of chills shook his body. He remembered the sensation from the moments after his leg had first been destroyed, before it had been replaced with mechanical parts. He’d never forget glancing down at his ruined muscles and ligaments, hanging from his bones like shredded meat.

Michael shook the thought away. He needed to concentrate and get his kids to safety. “Can you guys help me up?” he asked, attempting to stand. Jeff rushed over and grabbed him under the armpit.

“Thanks, bud,” Michael said in a soft voice. He didn’t want to scare the boys any more than they already had been. He needed them to be strong. Especially if he lost consciousness.

Michael scanned the wreckage for his pickup. He took a careful step over a twisted piece of metal and caught a glimpse of the flipped truck resting under the smoldering wing of one of the X90s. Even worse, somewhere beneath the scrap metal was his pack.

He scouted the best route through the debris. The landscape was peppered with black craters from where the jets had crashed, and the sand was covered in sheets of ash. Thick plumes of smoke swept across the terrain, further reducing his visibility.

“Boys,” he finally said. “I need you to listen very carefully. I need my pack. And in order to get it, I’m going to have to leave you both here.”

“Dad, no,” David blurted.

Michael put his hand on David’s shoulder. “It’s okay bud, I’ll be right back.” He glanced over at Jeff and winked at the older boy. “Don’t move,” he said firmly.

A few heartbeats later, Michael was navigating the minefield of warped metal. His injured leg creaked as he walked. The clicking sounds of his mechanical joints were no longer a figment of his imagination. This time, they were real.

By the time he got to the truck, a cloud of stars was racing across his vision. He blinked them away and scanned the wreckage for his pack. Without morphine, he could feel himself going into shock. And this was not the place he wanted to pass out. Gunpowder, jet fuel, and God knows what else the X90s were carrying meant the entire site could explode at any time. He didn’t want to be around when that happened.

Dropping to a knee he reached into his back pocket and removed a pair of gloves. He grimaced when the scorched skin on his back stretched further. A swift current of pain raced up his spine and was followed by a wave of dizziness.

Closing his eyes, he thought of Paula until the throbbing in his back subsided. She was counting on him. And so were Jeff and David.

Determined, Michael slipped on the gloves, pulled his handkerchief over his mouth, and dropped to his stomach. The gap between the wing and the crushed bed of the pickup was small, leaving just enough room for him to squeeze underneath.

Darkness shrouded him as he wiggled his way deeper underneath the rubble. He moved with his arms tucked tightly in front of him, compressing his body as the upside-down bed of the pickup narrowed.

Just a few more inches, he thought as he got closer.

The terrifying pop of one of the tires exploding filled the space before he could go any farther. He bit his lip and listened to the air hissing out of the destroyed rubber. It only took a moment for the tire to completely deflate. When the hissing stopped, a new sound replaced it. The sound of groaning metal.

Michael panicked as he felt the truck bed pushing down on him. The entire left side was being crushed by the wing. Without the support of the back tire he was going to be squashed—suffocated right in front of his boys.

Then he saw it. There, not a single foot in front of him was the tip of his pack, its straps protruding from the sand, so close he could see the frays in the tattered fabric.

He wanted desperately to reach out for it, to grab it and escape, but Michael was too terrified to move.

When the metal finally came to a stop his face was inches away from the ground. He spat into the sand defiantly, grabbed his pack, and squirmed to his right where the other back tire was still holding up the wing. Michael began wiggling backward when he caught sight of something else.

His rifles.

He hesitated as the truck let out a terrible creak; the wing pushed the bed down another inch.

Don’t, Michael. There’s no time. You don’t need the rifles.

But what if the country is under attack? How would he protect his family?

Jeff’s distant voice broke over the whipping wind. “Dad! What are you doing?”

“Wait there! I’ll be back in a second,” Michael yelled. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself before he crawled forward again. He knew he was taking a stupid risk, but he’d seen enough disaster movies to know that he would regret not having the guns later.

Two breaths later, he was hugging the rifles against his chest and wiggling backward. When he was halfway out he heard the sound of the second tire pop.

“No!” he yelled. But it was too late. The right side of the pickup began to crush him into the sand.

He panicked again, his feet kicking violently outside the wreckage as the wing pushed the vehicle down against his upper body.

Before the rubble suffocated him, he felt two small hands wrap around his ankles and tug.

“No! Get out of here!” he screamed.

They pulled again. Harder this time, nearly taking off his boots. He tucked the rifles closer to his chest and closed his eyes.

Another yank and he was free. Without hesitation he rolled onto his back, and looked into his boys’ faces. Even through the dense smoke he could see they were both smiling.

Michael didn’t know what to say. His kids had just saved his life. Part of him wanted to scold the boys for not staying put, and part of him wanted to punish himself.

The groaning of the metal behind him shocked him to his feet and he finally found the words he was looking for.

“Move!”

A minute later Michael collapsed to the ground. He lay there panting on his back with his kids on both sides.

“I’m sorry,” Michael finally said. “I shouldn’t have taken that risk.” David nudged up against him.

“Dad, your leg looks really bad,” the boy said. Michael sat up and jerked his chin toward his bag. “Bring me the first aid kit.” He glanced back down at his mechanical leg and saw the wound was worse than he originally thought. The flesh from his ankle to the bottom of his knee was completely gone. The skin around the wound, what was left of it at least, was burned a dark black. There was no use staring at it. When Jeff brought him the pack, he tore into the contents, retrieving the morphine. Gritting his teeth, he took the shot and then wrapped his leg the best he could. Then he had the boys check his back. Just as he suspected, he had suffered a severe burn over half his body. He had the boys help him apply a burn gel.

Wincing, Michael stood on his mechanical leg. Fortunately the wiring wasn’t too damaged. He could walk. It just hurt like hell to do so.

Michael looked down the road, wondering how long his body would hold out. They had miles to cover. The morphine would certainly help with the pain, but Michael was going to need more than some Band-Aids and painkillers to make it through the desert. They were going to need luck.

“Ready?” he asked, faking a smile and exchanging looks with his boys.

They nodded simultaneously.

Michael pulled the handkerchief around his mouth and began trekking away from the truck. Smoldering debris covered the path everywhere he looked. Billions in taxpayer money sprinkled across the desert.

Michael saw what he thought was a helmet tucked under a piece of metal a few feet ahead of him and pushed his boys to his side, shielding them from the view.

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

TIM 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

OAKLEY 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.

CHAPTER 9

MICHAEL had no idea where they were heading and was in too much pain to ask Oakley. The soldier had performed surprisingly well back at the spaceport and Michael trusted the man to get them somewhere safe.

Safe.

Michael closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in anger. Safety was an idea he had taken for granted since he’d returned from Northern Africa. He should have known better the moment those black NTC trucks showed up at the base.

He grimaced as the truck rolled over another bump. The slightest movement infuriated his burns, sending sharp waves of pain throughout his body.

In the front seat, Jeff leaned over to Oakley and asked, “What were those things?”

“Aliens, kid. Those were aliens,” replied Oakley. “But don’t worry. We’re getting out of here. Back to the city. I’m sure every available soldier within a thousand-mile radius is locked and loaded, ready to send those things back to outer space.”

Michael coughed. “What if this isn’t just local? What if this is worldwide?”

Oakley shrugged as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “Not a chance, man. All I know is that I’m getting as far away from this base as I can. I have a wife and kids to think about. I’m not going to die trying to fight those things.”

“But what if the city is filled with . . .” Jeff began to say.

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Oakley replied.

Michael closed his eyes, trying to compartmentalize the pain. If he could do that then maybe he could hold on just a bit longer.

“Listen, man. We saw the ships. There were hundreds of them. Not just the ones that landed at the port. They spread out in all different directions, which means this isn’t just happening here. This is an invasion!” Michael said with some effort.

David looked up at him. “Dad, are you okay?”

He nodded and continued. “We need to get to the tunnels. We need to hide until the military mounts a response. We’re sitting ducks on the road.” Michael had trusted that Oakley knew what he was doing, but trying to make it to the city? That was insanity.

The truck eased to a stop and Oakley turned to face the backseat. “You’re hurt, Michael. Hurt badly. You need a doctor. If we go back to the tunnels you could die.”

“We could all die if we try to make it to the city. Think about it, Oakley! If all communications have been cut off and modern electronics don’t work . . .” Michael closed his eyes as he broke out into another coughing fit. He wiped his mouth with his wrist, hiding the bloodstains by tucking his sleeve against his shirt.

“I know you have a family. And I have one too. I don’t expect you to come with us, but please, at least drop us off at one of the tunnel entrances. There are more located off base.”

Oakley remained still. After a few seconds he made the slightest of nods and turned to Jeff. “You saved my life, kid. I suppose I owe you guys one. I’ll take you to the closest tunnel entrance. Then I’m out of here. Deal?”

Michael forced a smile. “Thank you.”

The squeal from the tires was the last thing Michael heard before he passed out.

Jeff kept his eyes glued to the windshield. Every few minutes, the faint light of the moon would break through the cloud cover and give him an opportunity to scan the desert.

Nothing moved. There was no sign of the monsters.

He shifted in his seat to take a look in the back. His dad was slumped against the window. David was asleep on his chest, his head moving up and down with each of his father’s breaths. They both looked peaceful, but Jeff knew his dad was in desperate need of medical attention. Loose pieces of flesh still hung off his leg. Jeff used to think the mechanical leg was cool, but now it reminded him his dad wasn’t really a superhero like Ironman, it reminded him that his dad was just like the rest of them. That he could die just like everyone else. Like Paula. And like . . . Mom.

“How long until we get there?” Jeff asked, turning back to Oakley.

Oakley shrugged. “Probably another ten or fifteen minutes. I’m taking you guys to an abandoned outpost that I used to be stationed at. There’s an entrance to the tunnels there. My guess is it’ll be free of aliens.”

Jeff stared ahead. Another flash of moonlight illuminated something on the side of the road. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the object.

“What is that?”

“Just a car,” replied Oakley.

As they got closer, Jeff could see it wasn’t just a car. In the middle of the road there were two glowing spheres floating just to the right of a white sedan.

“What on . . .” Oakley eased off the pedal and pulled the truck to a stop a couple hundred feet away from the orbs. “Must be what we saw earlier.”

“I don’t like this,” Oakley said. “We don’t know what those things are.”

“Can you get us closer?”

Oakley didn’t reply. After a few minutes of silence, the soldier slowly pushed down on the pedal and steered the truck forward.

Jeff could see the orbs were floating a good foot or two off the ground. But he couldn’t see what was inside; his vision was limited by the dark unlike Oakley who wore a helmet.

“Do you see anything else with your night vision?” Jeff asked.

Oakley checked their rear and scanned the other side of the road before shaking his head. “Looks clear. No sign of the aliens. Let me switch to infrared.”

Jeff slouched in his seat. He suddenly felt frightened.

“Oh my god,” Oakley said. “Those spheres have a heat source. Either they’re alive or there’s something inside that’s alive.”

Jeff crossed his arms to hide the goose bumps on his skin. “Maybe you should get us out of here,” he whispered.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Oakley replied. He twisted the steering wheel and pulled the truck up onto the curb to give the orbs a wide berth.

The sound of crunching concrete stirred David awake in the backseat. He pulled away from his dad and rubbed his puffy eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Jeff turned to silence him when the moonlight broke through the cloud cover. The brilliant light carpeted the road and the mysterious spheres. It was then Jeff saw it.

“Wait,” he whispered, grabbing Oakley’s armored arm. “I saw something move inside.”

“What’s your point, kid?”

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

Oakley quickly shook his head. “I really don’t. I want to get the hell out of here.”

Jeff loosened his grip on the man’s arm. “Fine.” He spun in his seat and plastered his face against the window just in time to see a tremor ripple through the closest orb. The ball shook violently and split down the middle, releasing a trail of blue goo on the pavement.

Oakley saw it too and eased off the gas to get a better look. “My god,” he said as the truck rolled to a stop. “This can’t be happening.”

The two of them sat there in silence, watching the orb slowly crack open.

“What’s going on?” David asked.

“Nothing. Close your eyes, kid,” Oakley whispered, grabbing the steering wheel and slowly pushing back down on the pedal.

“Wait,” Jeff blurted.

Several thin fingers stuck out of the small opening. A frail human body broke through and splashed onto the pavement moments later. It tried to move, crawling through the blue goo.

“We have to help them,” Jeff cried.

Oakley hesitated and then nodded. He pulled the truck back onto the road and drove toward the body.

As they got closer, Jeff could see the person was hardly human. It looked like it had once been a woman; long hair still clung to her head. But her skin was shriveled and even from a distance Jeff could see the bright blue veins tattooing her mostly naked body.

The woman didn’t seem to notice their tires come to a stop inches from her reach. From the passenger window, Jeff could see that her eyes had shrunk inside their sockets. She attempted to crawl, placing her wet hands on the pavement and slowly pushing forward. The skin on her forearms peeled off like a snake shedding skin as she dragged her arms across the cement. But she didn’t cry out. It was as if she didn’t even notice.

Jeff turned away. He couldn’t watch any longer. “What’s wrong with her?”

Oakley didn’t reply. He simply opened his door, unsheathed his pistol, and fired off two rounds into the woman’s skull. Then he turned to the other orb and fired off the rest of the magazine. Blue mist exploded out of the sphere as the bullets penetrated its skin.

Jeff flinched at every shot. When Oakley climbed back into the car, he gripped the steering wheel and slammed the gas without looking back.

“What was that?” David asked from the backseat.

“Just a nightmare kid. Just a nightmare,” Oakley replied. Jeff watched the glow of the orbs fade in the rearview mirror.

Oakley’s voice, loud and gruff, cut through Michael’s dreams. “We’re almost there.”

Michael struggled to open his eyes. Over the past hour a deep fog had settled in his head, paralyzing his thoughts. The world sounded so distant. He blinked and leaned over to the window. Oakley had parked a quarter mile away so he could scout out the area before dropping them off. The moon cast an eerie blanket of light over the abandoned outpost. His vision was still cloudy, but Michael didn’t see any sign of the creatures.

A gust of wind startled Michael out of the daze as it sprayed the window with sand particles. He shook his head, narrowed his eyes, and focused on the building.

A single door aged with rust waited for them.

Oakley broke the silence again. “Looks safe. I haven’t seen any sign of the aliens.” He glanced at Michael in the rear mirror. “The tunnels snake for miles under the desert. And if I remember correctly, the military used to keep a shit ton of food and other supplies down there. You might get lucky and find some better medical—”

A loud blast cut Oakley off midsentence. He looked out the window, scanning the sky for the source of the noise.

On the horizon a trail of blue light raced through the night sky, and reminded Michael of a comet he had once seen. But this, he knew, was no comet. This was one of theirs.

He was suddenly very alert, his trance vanishing at the sight of the alien ship.

“What is it?” Jeff asked.

Oakley kicked the pedal into the floor and sent a wall of sand raining down behind them. “Not sticking around to find out.”

Michael grabbed the handle above him and tried to lean forward. The skin on his back was so raw he could hardly bear resting against the seat.

You’re boys are almost safe. You’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer, Michael reassured himself.

Under normal circumstances a quarter mile was a short distance, but the alien ship was bearing down on them, fast. Michael’s eyes darted from the building back up to the craft.

“Hold on,” Oakley shouted. He slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel, sending the Humvee sliding through the sand. The truck finally came to a sideways stop just in front of the building. Michael could feel the vehicle tip slightly to its side before the tires settled into the sand.

Seconds later, the truck was consumed by a bright blue light, and the truck began to shake violently.

Oakley took his hands off the wheel as the engine rattled to a stop.

“It’s killed the power!” he yelled. “The son of a bitch fucked up my ride home!”

Before Michael could protest, Oakley opened the car door and pointed his rifle at the ship. He fired off a few rounds that bounced harmlessly off the sides of the alien craft.

“Don’t!” Michael screamed.

“Come on you piece of shit!” Oakley cried. The muzzle from his pulse rifle spat an endless stream of pulse rounds.

Michael watched in horror as the ship shifted its beam from the vehicle to Oakley. The ray consumed the soldier and lifted his limp body into the air. In seconds, a hole in the alien ship had opened and pulled Oakley inside. Then the ship zipped away, another blast rattling the Humvee.

Jeff and David sat frozen in their seats. Michael wanted to reassure them, to tell them it was going to be okay, but he wasn’t sure of that anymore. And even with adrenaline flowing through his veins, the fog from before was already beginning to take over. He had to get the kids to safety. He had to get them to the tunnels.

Grabbing the door handle, he stumbled out into the sand. “Come on guys,” he said, motioning the boys outside. David remained curled up in the corner of the truck.

“Jeff, grab the rifles and my pack,” Michael said before reaching inside for David. The younger boy pulled away from his touch.

“David, we have to go,” Jeff yelled from the trunk where he was gathering their supplies.

“Help me with him,” Michael said.

Jeff reached inside the backseat and grabbed one of David’s arms while Michael grabbed the other. They carefully pulled him over the seat. When David saw the sand he tried to resist, pulling on their arms. “No,” he screamed. “I don’t want to go out there!”

With his last bit of energy Michael yanked David out of the vehicle. The boy landed on his stomach in the sand. He spat a mouthful of the particles into the air and looked over at his dad.

Michael was lying on his back a few feet away, moaning in pain. Thousands of pieces of sand had found their way into his wounds. He stared into the night sky, blinking. How had it come to this? In less than twelve hours his entire life had changed. He’d lost Paula, and if he didn’t get his ass up, he was going to lose his boys too.

“Help me up,” Michael said. He coughed up a few speckles of blood and quickly wiped them away.

Jeff and David both reached down for his hands. He grabbed them simultaneously. The pain in his back and the morphine had mostly masked the other feelings in his body, but he could still feel the warmth in their small hands. He squeezed them both, closed his eyes, and sat up.

Stars raced across his vision. And something else. Something blue. He blinked once. Twice. Then he saw it. There were four of them.

Spiders.

“Boys. I need you to listen very carefully. Take these two rifles and my pack to the building. I need you to break inside and head into the tunnels. You’ll have to go without me.”

“But Dad,” Jeff protested.

“I love you both very much,” Michael said, pulling the boys close and embracing them in one final hug. “Don’t wait for me!” he yelled, pushing them toward the building.

“Dad, no!” Jeff cried, taking several steps backward. David released a frantic scream, tears raining down his face.

Pushing himself off the ground, Michael grabbed his pulse rifle and limped after the boys. He knew they weren’t going to go willingly. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw the Spiders scampering across the sand. Their joints clicked like hungry teeth.

They’re so fast.

When he got to the front of the rusted-out building, Michael fired off a shot at the padlock. The door creaked open. “Get in,” he said, gesturing with his pistol into the darkness.

“You’re coming with, aren’t you?” Jeff choked.

“Yes, I’ll be right behind you,” he lied. “Now go!”

He watched Jeff pull a flashlight out of the pack and usher his younger brother forward. Jeff turned when the two were halfway down the stairs and, for a single second, Michael locked eyes with him. And then he shut the door behind the boys.

In one swift movement, Michael aimed his pulse rifle at the door hardware and fired. With any luck the destroyed lock and warped metal would seal them in.

He turned to face the monsters. The Spiders had already surrounded him, their claws whooshing through the air. Michael closed his eyes.

CHAPTER 10

TWO DAYS LATER

JEFF sat huddled inside the tiny storeroom next to David. They held each other in the darkness, trying to keep their breathing low. The clicking of claws echoed against the concrete as the aliens searched for prey through the hallways. The monsters were getting closer.

Jeff and David had stumbled upon the storage closet within the first few hours after their father had left them. The room had ended up being a goldmine, with a stack of bottled water, a box of MREs, and even a drain they could use as a toilet.

Over the last two days Jeff had plenty of time to think. In fact, it was all he had done. And he’d just come up with a plan. A plan to avenge their dad’s death. A plan to kill those things.

Jeff glanced over at David. His pale face was mostly covered in dirt, except for the streaks where tears had run down his cheeks. “We’re going to be okay,” Jeff said reassuringly. He hugged his little brother and then stood. He paced over to the two rifles their dad had given them.

“Come here,” Jeff said. He grabbed the hunting rifle and checked the safety. Just like his dad had taught him.

“This one is yours,” Jeff said. “I’ll take the assault rifle.”

David looked up at him from the ground. He hadn’t spoken much in the past two days. Jeff knew the boy was beginning to slip away. He needed to find a way to reengage him. He had to if they wanted to survive. They needed to become a team. There was no other option.

“Come on, bud,” Jeff insisted.

David slowly pushed himself off the concrete floor and walked over to Jeff.

“Do you know how we can honor dad?” Jeff asked.

The younger boy shook his head.

“We can honor him by killing those things. But we have to do it together. We have to be a team.”

David’s gaze locked with his older brother’s. There was a spark in the younger boy’s eyes, something Jeff hadn’t seen since before the invasion.

Jeff smiled. “You ready to play a new game?”

David narrowed his eyebrows. “What kind of game?”

“The kind of game where we get to kill monsters.”

After several seconds of consideration, David nodded and reached for the rifle. “I’m ready,” he said pausing. “And I’m going to win.”

“You always win,” Jeff said, grinning.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the author of several post-apocalyptic books and short stories. He worked for the State of Iowa for nearly ten years before switching careers to focus on his one true passion—writing. When he isn’t daydreaming about the apocalypse he’s likely racing in triathlons around the Midwest. He lives in Des Moines, Iowa with his family and several rescued animals. For more information, visit him a NicholasSansbury.com.

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

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First Simon451 ebook edition October 2014

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ISBN 978-1-4767-8898-2

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author