Chapter Fifteen
Cruz
Cruz waited for the aliens to rip into him.
He closed his eyes. He felt strangely empty. He’d been running on empty for far too long. Most days, he couldn’t remember why he was fighting anymore. And since Zeke had died…
Suddenly the tunnel filled with high-pitched yips and yowls.
His eyes snapped open.
Deadly black bolts whistled through the air, hitting the lead canids.
His gut hardened at the sight. Familiar black bolts.
The first bolt exploded on impact. There was a hissing noise as the bolt sprayed a mist into the air and across the alien beasts. Their cries turned to pained howls. Some dropped to the ground, writhing. The rest, as one giant mass, whirled and ran back into the darkness.
“What the hell?” Cruz felt the fine spray coat him, too. It smelled like…green trees?
Sudden shouts from his teammates echoed in the tunnel as they ran back toward him.
“Cruz?” Marcus raced forward. “You okay?”
The substance clung to him, giving off a faint glow, and he smelled like a fucking forest. It didn’t seem to burn or hurt him in any way. “I’m fine.”
“You are a crazy son of a bitch,” Shaw yelled. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“Saving your life,” Cruz snarled back.
“Well, someone sure as hell saved yours.”
“Yeah.” Cruz turned, eying the blackness where the bolts had come from.
A figured emerged from the shadows, walking toward them. Tall, slim, dressed in black cargo trousers and a hooded black top. His savior had twin Shockwave laser pistols holstered on narrow hips and held a modern tactical crossbow at their side.
Cruz couldn’t look away. He felt like every cell in his body was paying attention.
“It’s you,” Cruz said. “You helped us before. At the library.”
The figure nodded, then pushed the hood back.
Cruz barely contained his jerk of surprise. A woman.
She had a long fall of black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her face was typical of the melting pot that was Australia’s races but from the fine features and caramel-brown skin, Cruz guessed she had some Indian heritage. Her eyes were a unique pale green.
“I suggest you move fast.” The woman toed the body of dead canid. “These things hunt in large packs. They’ll bring reinforcements.”
“What are they?” This from Gabe, who was crouched beside one of the creatures, eyeing the red-stained belly.
“Another alien abomination. I call them hellions.”
“You’ve encountered them before?” Marcus asked.
“Yes.”
Cruz stepped closer. “Who are you?”
“Santha. Santha Kade.”
Santha. “My name’s Cruz Ramos. You live here?”
“In the city.”
He tugged at his damp collar. “What was the spray?”
Her lips moved in a small smile. “Sometimes the simplest things work the best. It’s a mixture of several items but the main ingredient is cedar oil.”
Gabe straightened. “We used to use cedar mulch back home to keep snakes out of the yard.”
The woman nodded. “It contains something that’s toxic to reptiles. Alien reptiles included. But it only seems to work on the canids and hellions.”
“We’d be much obliged if you’d share that recipe with us,” Marcus said.
The woman inclined her head. “I’d be happy to.”
Cruz drank her in. Something about her pulled at him…he wanted to know everything. “We’re from Blue Mountain Base, west of—”
“I know where it is.”
“There are lots of survivors there. Food, hot water occasionally. Come with us.”
She stared back at him for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I’m staying.” She glanced at Marcus. “You’re planning to destroy their communications?”
“Yes,” Marcus answered.
“I haven’t been able to pinpoint its exact location. I take it you know where their hub is, then?”
Elle raised her arm and the mini-comp. “We have a map. We’re still working on the final encryption, but we’re close.”
Santha nodded. “And you’re headed in the right direction. I’ll wish you luck then.” She turned. “Like I said, you should move fast.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said. “If you ever need anything, ask for Marcus Steele. Or Cruz.” He nodded at the team. “Move out, Hell Squad.”
“Wait.” Cruz grabbed Santha’s slim shoulder. Under the fabric, he felt toned muscle.
She paused and raised a brow.
There was pure, undiluted confidence in her eyes. This was a woman, and a warrior, who knew exactly what she was good at. But there was something else there too. A dangerous weariness he recognized all too well. Something he saw reflected in the mirror every day.
Cruz glanced at Marcus. “We can’t leave her.”
“Looks like she’d doing okay for herself.” Marcus nudged Elle along.
“Please, come with us,” Cruz tried again.
“I’m staying and fighting for my home.” For a second, Santha looked like she wanted to say something else.
“You could fight with us.” He smiled at her. Maybe some charm might help. “We have resources, training—”
Her lips twitched. “You can put the sexy grin away, soldier. I’m not that easy. I work better alone…but thank you.”
Cruz ground his teeth together. He barely knew her, but some part of him didn’t want to let her go.
Green eyes clung to him for one more second. “Stay safe.”
She disappeared into the darkness.
Cruz just stood there, staring after her.
“Cruz, we need to move. Mission, remember?”
Cruz muttered under his breath. “Yeah.”
He dragged his attention off his mysterious savior and back onto the mission.
***
Marcus watched a stationary train appear out of the green-tinged gloom ahead.
Around him, the squad was wired and wary.
As they passed the train, he saw Elle frowning at what looked like rust on the metal. But he noted the red-brown stains were smeared all over the windows too. It was no rust.
Then her brow scrunched and he knew she understood what those stains were. He saw her swallow a few times.
Marcus touched a hand to the nape of her neck. She looked up, her face set but steady. It broke his heart a little to see her learning to hold her own in the field, to see horrible things and deal with them. But he was damned proud of her as well.
They reached a junction, two tunnels spearing off in opposite directions.
“Which way?” he asked.
Elle tapped her mini-comp. The encryption still hadn’t broken but they had to be getting close. “Ah, right, I think.”
“Think or know?”
She stiffened her spine. “Right is all I’ve got for now. As soon as this encryption falls, I can give you more.”
Somewhere behind them, Claudia snickered. Marcus hid his smile. Yep, he was really starting to like those moments when Elle bared her teeth.
They moved down the tunnel, this one narrower than the earlier one with only one track. Suddenly Elle’s mini-comp beeped and the screen flared.
“Encryption’s down.” She swiped the screen, tapping at the map. “We’ve got it! We’ve got the hub’s exact location.”
“About damn time,” Shaw muttered.
Marcus ignored him. “Where?”
“About another fifty meters down this tunnel, there looks to be a service door into what was the Domestic Terminal’s train station.” Elle looked up. “From there, we have to head up into the terminal. To the food court. The hub’s in there. Feeding off what was once a small reactor used to power the terminal.”
“Okay, Hell Squad, let’s finish this.” Then he could get Elle out of here.
They continued on and stopped at a metal door marked “Maintenance.”
“Cruz, get it open.”
Cruz pulled something off his belt and got to work.
“You can pick locks?” Elle whispered.
“Man of many talents, querida.”
Yeah, Cruz had a lot of talents Marcus didn’t ask too much about. He had a dark past he didn’t like to share. Marcus watched his friend work and pondered the interest Cruz had for their attractive savior.
Marcus was damn happy about it. For months, he’d slowly watched his usually-happy, carefree friend turn harder and more disenchanted with the world.
Marcus looked at Elle. His own personal ray of sunshine. Sensing his scrutiny, she looked up and smiled. A tiny flicker of calm washed over him.
Cruz stepped back and opened the door.
Marcus gestured with his hand and the team moved inside the station. Seconds later, they crept up some stairs and past the turnstiles.
There was another wide tunnel lined with tiles and covered with advertisements for comps, banks, supersonic business travel to the world’s financial capitals, an island holiday on the Great Barrier Reef.
At the end of the tunnel, they found a pair of now-still escalators and walked up.
The first level was baggage claim. Some belts lay empty and others were still loaded with suitcases. Some other bags were strewn about, torn open, their contents spilling onto the tile floor.
Elle pointed up again.
This time it was check-in. Rows of empty check-in machines stood silent, their comp screens blank.
The squad spread out. Elle pointed them on toward the security checkpoint under the large Departures sign.
Gabe went first, moving toward the inoperative security machine that Marcus knew had been introduced a few decades back. The high-tech systems could simultaneously check for weapons, traces of explosives, and drugs, and also did a biological sweep for illness and signs of elevated nervousness. The technological advancement had cut security incidents on planes dramatically.
Gabe ducked through the arch.
Lights flared and an alarm screeched through the cavernous terminal.
Shit. Marcus pulled Elle down behind a row of chairs. The rest of the team took cover and waited.
Nothing.
Dammit. This was either a big decoy and the team was going to find nothing.
Or the raptors were welcoming them in before they sprung a dirty, big trap.
It didn’t matter. Whatever happened, they had to destroy that hub.
After a tense wait, no aliens appeared. Marcus directed the team onward and they skirted the security machine.
“Left,” Elle whispered.
On one side were large glass windows showing empty gates or planes waiting for passengers who’d never come. The other side was a row of shops. A bookstore with a small section of paper books and rows of comps that would have offered quick downloads of the latest digital bestsellers. A ladies’ clothing store that had been looted long ago. A jewelry store with rows of once-expensive watches in the window, now worth nothing.
“There’s the food court,” Elle said.
The team halted and Marcus studied the open area ahead. Rows of tables and chairs filled the center of the space. Fast-food restaurants that once offered everything from burgers to sushi lined the walls.
“Too damn quiet,” Gabe murmured.
Yeah. Marcus scanned the area but didn’t see anything moving.
Elle tapped furiously on her screen. “On the other side of the food court, there’s an entrance to a maintenance room that houses the nuclear reactor that powered part of the terminal.”
“And the hub?” Marcus asked.
She looked up. “The raptor hub is directly below the reactor. Looks like there is a staircase down to it.”
Marcus hated when a mission was too fucking easy. It always meant a big pile of shit was going to rain down. And raptor shit stank really, really badly.
He eyed the maintenance door across the expanse of the food court. He wished again, for the thousandth time, that he didn’t have to take Elle in there.
“Let’s move.”
They moved through the tables, every member swiveling around as they went, carbines aimed, waiting for raptors to pour out of some unnoticed hiding place.
Cruz smashed the lock on the maintenance door and pushed it open. Marcus went first and the team followed.
The maintenance area was large. Metal pipes ran across the ceiling, sending water and power to different parts of the terminal.
A big, boxy reactor sat in the middle of the space, humming quietly. Power filled the air, making the hair on Marcus’ arms stand up.
The raptors’ part-organic, scale-covered cables ran from the reactor, disappearing toward the back of the room.
“The stairs are that way,” Elle whispered.
He nodded and moved forward.
As they crossed the space, the only sound was the dull thud of their boots on the floor.
Too damned quiet. Marcus had barely finished the thought when he saw a flash of movement.
Clunk.
Something landed and rolled toward them.
Smoke exploded in a thick gray cloud.
“Smoke grenade!” someone yelled.
Marcus ducked. Where was Elle? He tried to peer through the smoke but it was worse than soup. He heard throaty growls.
The raptors were here.
Heart pumping in his chest harder than it ever had, he crawled across the concrete floor. Where the hell was she? He bumped into something. Something warm.
“Marcus?” A shaky whisper.
Relief almost took him to the ground. He curled his body around her. “I got you, baby.”
“I can’t see.” Her hands gripped his armor.
“It’ll clear in a few seconds. Then we fight. Keep your head down.”
He felt her fingers travel up his chest, brush his jaw. “Be careful.”
“Will do. You be ready to tell us where to go next.”
He felt rather than saw her nod. But soon he could see her pale face in the murk. He knelt and swung his weapon up. As soon as he started firing at the vague moving shadows on the other side of the room, his team opened fire.
Shit, there were a lot of raptors. Then he heard a low, raspy laugh. God, he hated when they did that.
The ground vibrated. Marcus kept firing, his pulse tripping. A huge raptor, twice the size of the others lumbered into view. He carried some sort of weapon Marcus had never seen. It was huge.
“Marcus? You see him?” Cruz’s voice came through the dissipating smoke.
“Never seen one like him before.” That rasping deep laugh echoed around them again. This time it made Marcus’ muscles tense.
“Fiiiire.”
Shit. It had spoken. In English. Shock froze Marcus for a second. Then, the super-raptor lifted his weapon and flames exploded outward.
“Flamethrower,” Marcus yelled, diving for cover. He reached out, trying to find Elle, and only fining air.
A wave of fire rushed over them, scorching hot. Hell on Earth.