COLD WAR: Alien Siege: Book 2 Read online

  “LT! This is going sideways fast!”

  The lead Ringhead finally collapsed under the sustained fire and landed in a smoking heap on the deck. The four others took up positions along the walls and began firing energy blasts into their position. The sound of gunfire swelled as crackling bolts poured into the doorway, scorching the floor and walls around them. He ducked out of the line of fire, looked over and saw Cam had pulled back as well. She seemed to be holding it together. And the Ringheads were shooting at her as much as him. So that’s a good sign -- so to speak.

  He risked a look out the door in time to see one of the Ringheads plant itself in the center of the hallway with the biggest rifle Jonesy had ever seen. “Cover!” He ducked back in and watched an enormous arc of electricity hammer through the door like a lightning strike. Jonesy felt his hair stand on end, and his face sunburning in the white hot light. The piles of clothes caught fire and began belching smoke into the room. Yeah, this shit needs to end, now.

  “Not good! LT! Get the other rifles! Pull all the charge packs!”

  They made eye contact through the hail of weapons fire. “On it! Slow them down!”

  Jonesy slid down to the floor, to reduce his profile even more, firing prone. Between their cover and tough hides, he doubted he did much to them, but he kept the rifle going. Return fire hammered the doorframe, showering him with molten sparks, the smell of ozone, and the acrid scent of his own burning hair. Tendrils of smoke from molten craters in the walls and floor obscured his view of the hallway. From the corner of his eye he could see Cam going through the gear, frantic, yanking packs. Down the hallway, he barely made out the last Ringhead slowly backing away.

  “Running low! We gotta do it now! They’re moving to flank!”

  Cam ripped off one of her rifles, unclipped the strap, and kicked it across the floor to him. A moment later she slid back into position on the doorframe with her rifle up, adding to the firefight.

  “Pour it on!” she yelled.

  He picked up the new rifle and squeezed the trigger down to full auto, turning the corridor into a blazing inferno of ionized gas. The glow of super-heated gas overpowered the alien lighting, casting the hallway in stark orange light. Alarms began blaring as fire suppression systems kicked in, spewing foam over everything in sight.

  “Now!”

  Cam dropped her rifle and picked up the small bundle, a dozen or so charge packs tied together with a rifle strap. She stepped back and tossed it underhand into the hallway.

  Jonesy’s vision narrowed to a tunnel that ended at the charge packs. Time slowed as his eyes tracked the arc of the package sailing down the hallway. The trajectory was long, flattened by the low gravity they were fighting in, but his eyes followed it and matched it perfectly through his sights. It floated gently through the suppression foam, finding a spot midair between all four Ringheads. He pulled the trigger.

  The explosion rung the ship like a bell, making the floor buck like a wild animal. Confined to the hallway, the concussion wave threw the Ringheads to the walls and crushed them to pulp. Jonesy watched the wave race towards them, a raging wall of fire and destruction. Not one of my bett--

  The shock wave picked them up and flung them into the back wall as tongues of flame licked in through the door. The bone-jarring impact kicked him in the back and nearly knocked him out, despite the stim tab. They slid to the floor, gasping for breath.

  Jonesy watched as the decking popped from the stress of the blast. The floor felt loose, wobbly beneath. No, that couldn’t be right. It was his legs that were wobbly. Jonesy rolled up onto his knees, shaking his head to clear it. Ow.

  He couldn’t hear a damn thing right now, not even the alarm klaxons from earlier. He tried to get up, but the floor kept moving, making it hard to balance. He blinked rapidly, still punch drunk from the explosion. He settled for crawling across the bucking floor to retrieve his rifle, keeping Cam in the corner of his vision. He found the comforting grip of the rifle buried under the fire foam.

  Jonesy army-crawled to a wall, feeling like a crippled slug. At last he scooted up, resting his back against a wall. The wall didn’t seem to be moving. That was good. He petted the rifle, the one thing he could trust in this alien landscape. As he continued his deep gulps of the smoky air, he coughed and his ears seemed clear out. He could hear the ship’s alarms now.

  Cam was shaking off the impact as well, and faster. She stood, a rueful smile on her face as she looked at him. “Not one of your better--”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Jonesy envied her ability to stand upright. He wasn’t there yet.

  They shared a glance for a moment, memories of prior fucked up battles flashing between them in that gaze. He chuckled and shook his head, finally attempting to stand. He leaned heavily against the wall and the floor felt solid once more beneath his feet. Progress. “All right, let’s get moving. With any luck we didn’t slag the weapons locker in the hallway.” Cam grinned and began collecting the rest of their supplies.

  4

  * * *

  JONESY

  The door had shut.

  Neither of them had seen it happen, but it had likely shut automatically when they detonated the charge packs. For all they knew there was nothing but molten metal on the other side of the door.

  For five minutes now Cam had been standing at the door, trying to open it with the control panel. It might be stuck. It might have been locked down. Either way, they needed a way out of the room.

  “How many left on the ship?”

  Cam frowned, her eyes darting up and down. “A dozen or more. It’s hard to count with them all running around.”

  “So much for sneaking out of here.”

  “It looks like they’re staying off this level.” She put her hand on the door. “I don’t think there’s a fire out there. I think we breached the hull.”

  He looked around the room again, hoping to spot something he had missed before, “No other way out of here? For sure?”

  Cam shook her head. Jonesy continued walking the perimeter of the room. He felt pretty good about the LT now, but a little distance didn’t hurt.

  The walls of the room sounded like metal when he rapped with his knuckles, but it didn’t look like any metal he knew. The dark finish had an odd sheen to it that looked oily, almost organic. As in the hallway, conduits snaked about the walls in no discernable pattern. He found that pulling on them was useless as they were somehow welded securely to the walls.

  “Toss me another stim, I’m going to take a look.”

  Cam brought him the packet, “Are you sure?”

  “We got another play here?”

  She frowned and handed him the tab. As the drug dissolved he felt his skin flush hot all over his body. The throbbing ache in his back, the burns to his hands and face, all his pain melted away in the warm bath of endorphins. Two in an hour. He was going to pay for this one--especially with what he was about to do.

  Jonesy closed his eyes, concentrating. The first bit always hurt the most. He opened his eyes and even with the stim he still dropped to one knee as pain lanced through his right eye. Tears welled up and ran down his cheeks as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

  His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looked up and scanned the room again, seeing a cacophony of wavelengths through his cybernetic eye. Strange radiation patterns assaulted his vision as he looked for a solution to this locked room dilemma. Pulsing yellow energy ran through the conduits, throbbing like a heartbeat. He could see stresses in the walls and floors. The explosion had twisted the structure of the deck, bent this room out of shape. Thermal gradients showed the cold vacuum on the other side of the door, as well as their air leaking out through microcracks in the walls.

  In the far corner of the room, Jonesy spotted something promising. “Let’s try over there,” he said as he looked back to Cam, and felt his stomach flip over. He closed his eyes and went to his hands and knees, shutting down his implant. The pain throu
gh his eye began fading as he threw up the food bars he had eaten. The bile bit his tongue as he wiped his mouth, trying to drive the vision out of his head.

  He looked up, careful not to re-engage his implant. Cam was standing there, the familiar concerned expression on her face made chilling by the blue tint of her skin. Like an alien pretending to be human. He’d had these episodes before in front of her and he knew she wouldn’t try to touch him while he was in this state. He closed his eyes again and spat on the deck, trying to get the sour taste of vomit out of his mouth.

  “Over there,” he pointed without looking up. “See if you can find a panel on that wall.”

  While Cam checked out the back wall, Jonesy took deep breaths, and concentrated on not throwing up again. After he collected himself, he joined her in the back of the room, and found her with both hands on the wall, right where he’d pointed.

  “This is definitely different from the rest of the wall.”

  “But….?”

  “But I can’t figure out what to do with it. I think it opens, but it’s not like the door. I also can’t tell what’s behind it.”

  “Well, we’re out of options and our air is leaking out of here, so door number one is going to have to do.”

  Jonesy rechecked his rifle while Cam kept at it. It was a standard US Marine Infantry plasma rifle, very serviceable, if a little boring. His own gear he liked to spice up a little. The charge pack stood at 50%. He could see that Cam’s was near the same level. He was grateful the pistols were still in reserve. He had a bad feeling that they would be counting on those very soon.

  Cam ran her hands along the seam of the shape he’d spotted in the wall. As her hands came down one side, he caught her arm glowing a faint blue for a split second. She turned and looked at him. “You saw that too, right?”

  He nodded and instantly regretted the movement. His head still felt fragile. “Try like you do with the door control, but on that spot.”

  She put her hand back on the wall, and her arm began glowing again. As she closed her eyes to concentrate, the glowing intensified. Her brow knitted, and the glowing expanded to the wall in the shape of the panel. As the outline of the panel completed, it separated from the wall with a hiss of air and slid outward.

  Cam dropped her arm and opened her eyes. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were blank, staring at him and yet devoid of expression. Jonesy took a step back, dropping his hand to the pistol at his side. His mind reflexively played a nightmare scenario of being locked in a cage with an angry bear.

  “LT?”

  She took a step towards him, eyes unblinking. Her head scanned him up and down, apparently sizing him up as she took another slow step. Jonesy kept backing up, shuffling his feet as he went. His headache made it hard to concentrate. Sweat sprung up on his neck and arms, making the pistol grip slick. He couldn’t remember if there was anything on the ground behind him, or how far it was to the opposite wall.

  “Cam!”

  She took another halting step, leaning forward like a bad marionette. Her head dropped down, and when it came back up, her neck looked odd and disjointed. In fact her neck moved like-- Oh, fuck. NotCam straightened up and began stalking towards him, all traces of humanity gone like a match in a windstorm. Her jaw hinged open hugely, baring fangs as she roared.

  He snapped his arm up with the pistol. As he drew the front sight caught on the rifle strap, twisting the gun as he brought it to bear on her. He squeezed the trigger, and knew his aim was off. NotCam was five feet from him now, and as the pistol report sounded he backed into the far wall.

  “Owwhatthefuckwasthat?!” Cam dropped to the floor, clutching her abdomen, a confused expression on her face.

  Jonesy tried to press himself into the wall, keeping his pistol trained on Cam. “What the hell is going on?! LT!? Are you in there!?”

  Cam stayed on the ground, pressing on her wound, looking back to the open panel, and then up to him, still with the confused expression on her face. Jonesy watched her face crumple as the horrifying realization hit her, leaving her weeping on the floor.

  “What is happening to me?” Cam began to cry, ugly gulping sounds.

  Jonesy slid to the ground and sat with his back to the wall, his gun hand propped up on his knee. He was crashing from the adrenaline again, leaving him bone-weary and spent. God, I need to sleep.

  But he couldn’t close his eyes, because right in front of him, he watched Cam’s green blood spill out of her gut wound. Sweet Jesus. As his heart continued to pound, her wound began to seal, but not before her body expelled the pistol round. Note to self, shitty SinoSov pistols don’t work on the aliens. Better upgrade these puppies.

  Cam looked at him, distraught, her face wet with tears. He leaned his head back on the wall, letting his eyes drift half-closed. Cam remained kneeling on the floor, hugging herself and rocking back and forth, moaning now. It didn’t matter. Their air was running out. In a few moments, all this would be decided for them if they didn’t move.

  Fortune favors the bold. He stood, keeping his back to the wall. He paused as he came to his full height. His vision was still a little blurry around the edges, and his headache was now threatening to pound its way through the back of his eyes. It had been less than an hour since the LT pulled him off the bed, but he felt like he’d just run two consecutive marathons. Home stretch.

  He strode over to Cam and prodded her shoulder with his toe. He kept the gun up and trained on the back of her head. “C’mon, LT. Get up. We gotta go.”

  When she remained immobile on the floor, Jonesy sighed. What the hell, he would die here if he didn’t get out anyway. He tucked away the pistol, grabbed her under an arm, and hauled her up. Oof. She weighed a ton. Her skin was dry and pebbly, like leather, and she seemed much denser than she should be. He put his back into it and tried to get her to half standing. Thank god she stood up the rest of the way on her own before he fell over, ass over teakettle.

  “Cam. If we stay here, we’re going to asphyxiate in a few minutes. If I’m going to die, I’m going to take out as many Ringheads on this ship as I can. I’m not going to die like this, suffocating in a damned box. Let’s go.” She swallowed, then gave a short nod. He marched her towards the open panel in the wall.

  They considered the open panel and the open crawl space behind it.

  " The jump ship is five decks down, right?”

  Cam nodded.

  "Ok then, let's get going." He waved with the pistol, inviting Cam into the opening first. "Hate yourself later, get off the alien spaceship now."

  5

  * * *

  KEENAN

  The sight of Camp Glenn stung. The sight of the sprawling base with its blocky beige buildings used to fill him with happy anticipation that he would see the love of his life there. That all changed when the Colonel informed him Cam hadn’t made it back from Segovia.

  In the week since the revelation, Keenan hadn’t slept much. Nothing seemed real. When he tried to lie down, memories burned against his eyelids, adrenaline pounding in his brain forcing him up. If Phillips hadn’t ordered him back down to base, he would have come anyway. Stupid, he knew, since she wasn’t there, but he wanted to feel closer to her.

  Keenan heard the stalwart Dr. Beaufort mumbling under her breath behind him. He was guessing she was none too pleased with the pace he set, dragging them all down from the Yukon cold weather training station. But she hadn’t said a word of complaint to him.

  They’d both lost so much since the Ringheads arrival. Now when he looked in the mirror, he saw the same thousand yard stare on his own face that Beaufort showed the first time he’d picked her up from McMurdo Station in Antarctica.

  One look at his face when he’d gone to fetch her, and she hustled to pack her gear without a word. Kekoa, who’d been with him to hell and back treated him with kid gloves. The easy going islander often fell silent at the sight the thunderclouds brewing on Keenan’s face. It made him feel like shit. But he was having a hard
time keeping a lid on his anger. It sometimes overflowed--he couldn’t help it. Every time he saw that hesitation in Kekoa’s eyes, he bit his tongue to keep from snarling.

  At least now that they were at Camp Glenn, he figured people would stop tiptoeing around it. Someone would say her name. She’d be real and not a cautionary tale or nightmare no one wanted to talk about because they feared for their own mortality.

  Keenan needed to be around people who knew her and wouldn’t pretend they couldn’t talk about her. He just wanted to hear someone say her name and share something about her. Cam. Camila. Camila Alvarez. And if he’d just been a bit quicker … Camila Flynn.

  That maglev ride had been hell. The drive up the mountains the rest of the way from Reno had been even worse. Bells had offered to drive, but Keenan knew he wasn’t going to sleep anyway. So the rest of them had sacked out and he’d been left with his own thoughts and memories to churn as he babysat the vehicle through the twisty mountain roads carved into the Sierras.

  As he grabbed his kit and stepped away from the vehicle, the late spring weather brought a sweat to his forehead. Here in the mountains the locals probably found it chilly, as evidenced by the number of long coats he’d seen on the drive here. Yet, after a year in the Yukon, everything was sensory overload. Too much sun and heat, too much color, too much terrain, too many smells. The heat pressed in on him from all directions, forcing him to move forward and confront his reality--he was here at Camp Glenn but Cam wasn’t and she never would be again.

  Keenan slowed as he approached the ramp to the main entrance, his body taut with impatience as he turned to glare at Beaufort. She dropped her bag to the ground, creating a puff of arid desert dust. She wiped her forehead and tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’d forgotten how hot this place is!”