The alive series box set, p.28
The ALIVE Series Box Set, page 28
part #1 of ALIVE Series
An image of the door leading to the stairwell popped into her mind a split second before Alvie grabbed her hand, hurrying forward.
“We need to go faster,” Maeve said, hurrying along with Alvie.
Chris picked up the pace. “Why?”
Maeve didn’t answer because she didn’t need to. The door opening at the top of the stairwell spoke for her.
“Oh Dr. Leaaanderrr,” a voice sang above them.
“Who the hell is that?” Maeve asked in a whisper.
“Henning,” Chris growled. “We need to go faster.” Now they were all but sprinting down the stairs.
But even with the blood pounding in her ears, Maeve heard something hit the stairs a flight below them and start to roll down the steps.
“Look out!” Chris yelled seconds before the grenade exploded.
Chapter One Hundred Two
Hank dropped off the dumpster, disappearing from view. But neither Leslie nor Greg gave any thought to trying to sprint forward. Hank was still there, and Greg got the distinct impression he was enjoying the anticipation.
Greg backed up, Leslie doing the same next to him. “Uh, Leslie, you’ve got a plan, right?”
“Well, I’m out of ammo. Our escape route is cut off, and I’m pretty sure any hand-to-hand combat will result in both of us getting sliced to death. So no, Greg, nothing’s really coming to mind.”
Greg laughed nervously. “So we’re relying on divine intervention?”
“Yup. So start praying.”
Greg stared at Leslie and then down the long alley. He heard Hank’s nails on the concrete before he saw him. Too soon, he stood walking slowly down the alley, saliva dripping from his mouth. Hank was in no rush. He looked like he was actually savoring the moment.
Leslie reached over and squeezed Greg’s hand. “You’re a good man, Greg. And I have been lucky to know you.”
“Right back at you—except for the man part. You’re a good woman. A great woman, an amazing—”
“Shut up, Greg.”
“Good idea.”
But Greg wanted to look Leslie in the eyes and tell her how truly amazing he thought she was. How grateful he was to know her. But at the precise moment, Hank charged, and Greg could do nothing but scramble back, praying for a miracle.
Chapter One Hundred Three
The force of the blast blew Maeve off her feet. Her head smacked into the wall. She thought she might have blacked out for a minute, although the complete darkness of the stairwell made it hard to be sure.
She opened her eyes to see Crackle on her chest, his hand on Maeve’s face. Alvie knelt down next to her.
“I’m okay,” she said as she started to sit up. Her head swam. Both her neck and the back of her head ached. “Chris?”
“Here,” he groaned. “God, that sucked.” The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs echoed through the space.
Maeve scrambled to her feet and cautiously made her way toward him. He reached out for her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Alvie,” she called, but he was already moving ahead of them.
“Where did the grenade—” But her words died away as the next landing came into view. Or more accurately, where the next landing should have been. A gaping hole stretched across it now.
“Ah, shit,” Chris said. Alvie moved forward and with a quick run, leapt across the chasm.
Maeve shook her head. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“We’ll climb the rubble. You see that ledge? We’ll use that.”
Maeve nodded. “Okay. Let’s—” Gunfire crashed into the landing next to her.
“Get behind me!” Chris yelled as he opened fire. “Go across Maeve. Now!”
Swinging Crackle around to her back, Maeve ran to the wreckage. She lowered Crackle to the ground. “Go to Alvie.” Crackle scampered across quickly. Maeve placed a foot on the bar and it shook. “Oh, come on,” she groaned.
She stepped on it and it held. Heart in her throat, she inched along the beam, trying to lean against the wall for extra support, her arms out. Behind her, Chris kept up a barrage of gunfire, keeping Henning and whoever he had brought with him away.
“I’m over,” Maeve yelled as soon as she touched down on the other side. “Alvie, take Pop and Crackle and go.”
He stared at her, shaking his head.
“Go, Alvie. Get them out of here.” With one last look, he turned and fled down the stairwell.
Maeve pulled her weapon into her shoulder. “Come on, Chris.” She opened fire.
Chris wasted no time. He sprinted for the beam and gingerly made his way across the top.
“Keep shooting!” he yelled as he landed on the other side, Snap wrapped around his neck. He knelt down. Snap jumped off and ran for Maeve, hiding behind her legs. Chris shoved at the beam, moving it inches. Slowly it headed for the hole and then dropped.
“Let’s go.” Chris grabbed Maeve’s hand with one hand and scooped Snap up with the other. In darkness, they fled down into the stairwell after Alvie.
Chapter One Hundred Four
Leslie and Greg sprinted down the alley. The sound of Hank grew closer and closer behind them, but Greg didn’t turn to look—his imagination was terrifying him enough, no need to have that image confirmed. Ahead was the Jeep blocking the way. And the dumpster.
“God damn it.” Leslie jerked to a stop in front of the dumpster and whirled around. Greg came to a stop next to her.
From the corner of his eye he saw a shadow swooping down.
Oh god, there’s another one.
He pushed Leslie down, throwing himself on top of her as Hank lunged. Talons ripped Greg’s shirt and he tensed, waiting for the pain. But then Hank was gone, shredding Greg’s shirt as he flew into the air.
Greg looked up in astonishment as Hank scrambled, arms and legs moving as he was carried off. Greg stared at the being holding him, terror running through him even as he acknowledged that the being had saved their lives. Large wings as black as night extended from its body. It held Hank in his arms securely as Hank struggled. At first Greg couldn’t see his face, but then it turned and Greg caught a glimpse of a dark humanoid face with red eyes. And then before Leslie or Greg could say anything, it ripped Hank in two, dropping him to the ground before flying off.
Leslie sat up slowly, her mouth hanging open. “What the hell was that?”
Greg didn’t look at her, his attention still focused on the creature, which was now no more than a dark blur in the sky. “I think it’s Mothman.”
“What are you talking about? I swear to god, Greg, if that’s a reference to another one of your video game characters, I will—”
“No, Mothman. He was a giant creature with wings that supposedly terrified residents of Virginia for a few decades. Humanoid in appearance except for its giant wings. There were even isolated cases of it being seen at NASA’s Johnson Space Center.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Greg gave a nervous laugh. “Well, while normally that would be possible, the fact that we just saw a six-foot-tall bat-man fly off with Hank would suggest I’m not.”
“So what the hell is it?”
“I’m going to go with alien, based purely on every other thing we’ve seen.”
Leslie glared at him.
“Okay, I’m guessing he’s some sort of hybridization gone wrong or gone right, depending on what the end goal was.”
“But it looked part human. I mean, its face—it looked really human.”
Greg pictured the being that had saved their lives. It was humanoid in appearance but those wings… Greg was horrified.
They merged alien and human DNA.
“So did it save us on purpose? Or was it just after Hank?”
Greg looked over at Leslie and brought himself back to the conversation. “I don’t know.”
“What the hell is wrong with these people?” Leslie said through gritted teeth. “They combined human DNA with some bat thing? Who the hell does that? Why the hell would they do that?”
“Well, the military has a long history of looking for every possible threat and then running off and creating it.”
“What are you talking about?”
Greg waved his hand toward the southwest and the Nevada testing site. “The United States has tested over a thousand bombs to prepare should any other country set off a bomb. I mean, they seemed to bomb things just cause they could. They set off one bomb in the atmosphere not far from Hawaii just to see what the signs would be if the Russians did the same thing. There was even a plan to bomb the dark side of the moon.”
“What? Why?”
“To demonstrate our military might. Basically, in our past, the military acts like a bunch of Neanderthals running around with big clubs, bashing everything in sight.”
“But the human toll—”
“Not a factor. We tend to play with technology long before we fully understand it and more importantly, before we understand the harm it can cause.”
“So you think these creatures are the military waving a big stick?”
“I think these creatures are evidence that the military is terrified of something.”
Chapter One Hundred Five
Even as they raced down the stairs, Chris took a little solace in the grenade toss. Henning had miscalculated throwing it. It would slow him and his men down as well as they tried to get across the destroyed stairs.
Above them, Chris could hear footsteps pounding down the steps after them. Chris picked up his pace but Alvie bounded ahead of him anyway. Chris had worried the little guy wouldn’t have been able to keep up with his smaller legs. But Alvie didn’t bother using every step. He went down two or three steps at a time.
Maeve was behind him and Chris stopped. “Give me Pop.”
“But—”
“No time. Hand him over.”
Maeve did, and Chris quickly pulled him into his chest; Crackle was still perched on his back. Maeve had taken Pop from Alvie as soon as they caught up with him. The extra thirty pounds made little difference to him, but he was sure Maeve was reaching her physical breaking point.
“Move, Maeve. Move.”
Maeve scampered down the stairs ahead of him. They were at least ten flights down. Chris knew they had to reach the tunnels soon.
If they actually exist.
But he didn’t entertain that thought for long. Because if this stairwell simply led to a basement or boiler room, they were dead. Ahead, Alvie led out a small cry.
“He’s at the bottom,” Maeve whispered.
A few seconds later, they reached the landing next to Alvie. Maeve quickly grabbed the twins from Chris as he reached for the door. The footsteps on the stairs continued toward them.
Chris reached for the handle and tugged but it wouldn’t budge.
“Is it locked?” Maeve asked.
“I don’t think so. I think it’s stuck,” Chris said as he pulled on the door. “You guys get back.”
“We’re coming, Chris,” Henning sang down the stairwell. “You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
“Don’t worry. I can take care of that now,” Chris yelled.
Henning laughed. “It’s too late now, because you see, I brought some friends.” And the rapidly approaching footprints accentuated his words.
Chris knew they were only a few flights away. He pulled out his shotgun and aimed to the left of the handle and pulled the trigger.
The handle and part of the frame disappeared. Chris reached into the hole, grabbing onto the jagged wood, still warm from the shot, and yanked. The door flew open.
“Go!” Chris yelled.
Maeve ran through the opening with the triplets and Alvie. Chris yanked a grenade off his waist, waiting at the doorway for Henning and his friends. When they were a flight away, he ripped out the pin. “I brought some friends too,” Chris yelled, tossing the grenade up the stairs.
Chapter One Hundred Six
Martin gritted his teeth as he watched the Jeep speed across the tarmac. They were actually escaping. His men trailed behind the Jeep, but Martin’s anger only grew hotter at the sight of them.
They’re letting them get away. Idiots.
He stared at the screen as Dr. Leander vaulted from the car for the hangar and then watched in disbelief as she propped Subject #1 up so he could input the code. All that wasted potential. Cooperation between humans and an alien species.
But then he paused, tilting his head to the side as Dr. Leander and company disappeared into the hangar. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely wasted. Subject #1 did show aggression, at least in defense of himself and his human friends.
Maybe I’ve been looking at this wrong. Maybe we need some who will fight with us, not just for us.
Here he’d been trying to build an alien race, when the first successful cloning subject could hold the answer. He just needed to convince the race that the human race needed saving and that they needed to do it.
Martin gave a small laugh. Maybe that’s the direction we should be heading. His gaze strayed to where a Blue Boy had grabbed a man in camouflage and slammed him headfirst into the pavement.
Of course, they all show a little promise, don’t they?
Martin sat back, content. This experiment had provided him with more than he’d ever believed possible. But even he could see it was time to end it. Leander and company escaping through the old tunnels indicated a flaw in the base’s security system. And as much as Martin was enjoying watching what these subjects could do, he would not risk releasing them on the general population. It was time to wrap things up.
Leander and company heading into the tunnels meant he’d have them all within his control within an hour at most. All the other aliens he needed had already been evacuated. And the rest, well, he still had the recipe for them if, after reviewing the recordings, he deemed them necessary.
Looks like my job here is almost done.
Martin picked up his phone, dialing quickly.
“Delta Station.”
“This is Director Drummond, ID Alpha Omega Two Three Tango Foxtrot.”
“Identity confirmed, Director.”
“The bomb is a go. The bomb is a go. I repeat, the bomb is a go.”
“Sir, we have thirty-two more minutes before detonation.”
Martin watched his security force enter the old hangar. “Negative, Command. The situation has changed. The bombing will commence immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Martin disconnected the call, already dismissing everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours and all the lives that were about to be lost. Instead, he focused on the future and where the A.L.I.V.E. Project would next head. He began to hum as he wrote up his ideas.
Chapter One Hundred Seven
Leslie and Greg made their way to the pickup that had chased them. Greg carefully avoided looking at the remains of either of the men. Of course, for one of them, that was a little more difficult as his remains were spread all over the place.
Greg got into the passenger seat and tried not to grimace as Leslie put on the windshield wipers to remove some of the blood and tissue.
“Okay,” Greg said, feeling like he’d aged a hundred years. His mind could barely take in everything that had happened. “What now?”
“Well, let’s see if we can follow Chris and Maeve. If not, let’s find a closer tunnel entrance.”
“Okay. Sounds good,” Greg said although at this point he would agree to anything that Leslie said. His mind was slowly turning to mush.
“Turn on the radio,” Leslie said, nodding to the radio between the seats as she reversed out of the alley. “Let’s see what’s going on.”
Greg grabbed the radio, fumbling with the knobs for a minute before he figured out how to turn it on.
“—repeat. Evacuate the base immediately or find deep shelter. The bombing will commence in five minutes.”
Leslie slammed on the brakes and stared at Greg.
“But—but Chris said they weren’t going to bomb it for another forty minutes.”
“Something happened. Something changed. Where’s the next closest entrance to the tunnels?”
He scrambled to remember what Maeve said while picturing a map of the base. “Other side of the base. We can’t make it in time, can we?”
“Not if we run into any interference. So we just need to find a place to lay low until—”
“Leslie, when this hits, it will be the force of, well, you know, a bomb. Even if we somehow survive that, the whole place will be radioactive. Granted, within an hour, the air should be clear, but that’s still an hour of not breathing in the air. Pretty sure I can’t hold my breath for that long.”
Leslie slumped down in her seat. “So this is it?”
Greg glanced over at her. “I think it might be.”
Behind her, he could see the old runway, the place where the U-2 spy plane had first launched. Where the stealth bomber had launched. To the southwest, they tested atomic bombs. At least he was going in the middle of a place with an incredible history.
All the aliens he had seen in the last twenty-four hours flew threw his mind, ending with an image of Alvie. He pictured Alvie leaning into him when they left.
Hangar 37. Greg jolted.
“Greg?” Leslie asked.
Greg put up a hand, straining to remember. Hangar 37 and something else. What was it? 31827?
“I think we need to go to Hangar 37.”
“37? Why?”
“Do you know where it is?”
“Yeah, the southern part of the base, it’s not that far from here.” Leslie hit the gas, looking at Greg from the corner of her eye. “Why are we going there?”
“Because I think Alvie may have told me a way to save us.”
Chapter One Hundred Eight
