Red Sands (3 page)

CHAPTER 4

T
HE
images were crap. Complete and utter crap. “We spent fifty billion dollars on this stealth satellite, and it can't take decent pictures?” Dr. Hoffman was furious. Sitting in the CIC, he scanned the faces of his staff, and one by one they looked away.

“No one can explain this to me?” He looked for Robert Bailey, the chief engineer. The bald man sat at the far end of the oval-shaped table, his beady eyes focused on the tablet he was obviously pretending to read.

“Robert. You're my engineer. So give me a damn report,” Hoffman barked.

The man ran a hand over his shiny head, the skin gleaming under a bank of LEDs overhead. Then he shrugged.

Hoffman attempted to maintain his self-control. He glared at the stocky engineer, wondering if his attitude would change if he threatened to shoot him out an air lock.

Hoffman continued. “I
expected
to have the ability to monitor the biospheres. I
expected
the engineers that designed Lolo to provide me with images I could actually make out.” He flicked the screen again to look at what was supposed to be the Cheyenne Mountain biosphere. He remembered Dr. Sophie Winston and her team, wondering if they'd figured out what had happened outside yet.

“I apologize, sir,” Robert said. “I will see if I can reprogram Lolo. Honestly, she should be capable of high-resolution photos.”

“I want to know what's going on there. I
need
to know. If an alien ship lands on that tarmac or hovers over that mountain, I want it documented. Same goes for every biosphere. Got it?”

Robert nodded. “I'll get right on that, sir.”

Repositioning his glasses, Hoffman squinted. He expected to see the blast door and the tarmac outside the tunnel leading into the mountain. But all he saw was the grainy image of a huge chunk of rock.

Hoffman sighed and turned to the chief pilot. The man looked like the typical NASA astronaut. He was chiseled, his body filling out every corner of his blue space suit. His hair was spiked into a crew cut, indicating he was ex-military.

“Good flying, Burns,” Hoffman said. “You made me nervous for a few minutes, but . . .” He paused, remembering the pilot that had almost killed Dr. Sophie Winston on her flight to Cheyenne Mountain. The poor bastard was probably dead by now. He'd given the man a hard time. A trace of regret surfaced and then vanished. He'd resolved not to dwell on the losses on Earth. The human race was destined for Mars. Their future was on the Red Planet.

“Thank you, sir,” Burns said. “
Secundu Casu
is one hell of a spaceship.”

Hoffman nodded, folded his arms across his chest, and turned to Amy. “Better tell everyone what you told me back in Biome 1.”

She stood and pushed in her chair. Hoffman studied her, interested to see how she would react under the pressure of such a grim report. To his satisfaction she spoke professionally and without reservation. It was the same Amy he'd hired years ago.

“We've lost all communication with ground forces. Every NTC facility is now off-line,” she said. “The last radio signal we intercepted was from a stealth navy destroyer. The chatter was confusing but we recorded this final transmission. She leaned forward over her chair and pressed a button on the keyboard of the center console. The PA speakers coughed static.

“This is Captain Mark Griffey of the USS
Infinity
, requesting support from any known vessels. Our position has been compromised. I repeat, our position has been compromised. Three unidentified spaceships are following us at the following coordinates—”

A surge of white noise filled the room for several seconds until the commander finally came back online. His voice seemed strained, like he knew exactly what fate awaited him.

“Three beams have locked onto our position. We've lost all power. I'm ordering all hands to abandon—”

The feed clicked off.

Amy stepped away from the table. She stood there, her eyes locking with Hoffman's. They both knew no other words needed to be spoken. The most powerful military in the world had just been wiped out in a little over three days. The war for the planet was over, but the fight for the human species had just begun.

• • •

Jeff focused on the white building with the red roof. Nothing else mattered. That was their target. He ran as though his life depended on it, because it
did
depend on it. Fueled by adrenaline he grunted and pushed on. They were almost there.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see David's backpack bobbing up and down. He was running faster than before. Maybe he really was imagining bees chasing him.

“Keep going!” Jeff insisted.

He caught a glimpse of movement to the east, but when he turned, he saw nothing but an endless sea of sand.

The road curved toward the guard building. But first they would have to pass around a half dozen or more of the ruined orbs. They scared the crap out of him. He knew each slimy mess was the remains of someone who had worked on the base.

“Jeff, what are those bags?” David asked.

“Keep moving.”

They did. Running faster now. The first orb was only a few more feet away. Jeff ran past it. Hardly glancing at the bits of gore spread like jelly across the ground.

The white sun beat down on the boys. It was still midmorning, but the dry heat was intense. The light caught something as they ran, sparkling. Jeff slowed when he saw it glisten from one of the destroyed orbs near the door.

David ran past him but Jeff reached out and stopped him, yanking on his backpack.

“Hey!” David said, panting.

Jeff took a knee and raised his rifle to look for the monsters. The base still seemed deserted, but it didn't feel that way.

The door to his father's guard hut was closed, and three of the ruined orbs covered the walkway to the entrance. The metallic object was halfway tucked under a flap of the shriveled blue shell, flickering in the sunlight.

Was it a weapon?

“Okay, let's go,” Jeff said, standing. David had his rifle out now, too. The muzzle bobbed up and down as he walked. They still hadn't fired their weapons, choosing to run and hide instead of take on any of the creatures. But Jeff knew it was only a matter of time before they were forced to stand and fight.

Clenching his teeth he walked on. He bit back the fear that was trickling through him. He had to be strong. For David. They were so close now.

Jeff cautiously navigated the orbs' withered sides. The sour stink of rotting flesh filled the air. He choked and gagged but kept moving. He had resolved not to look at any of the contents, but the glistening metallic object beneath the orb just outside the door had piqued his curiosity. If it
were
a pulse rifle then he would gladly borrow the gun. The previous user no longer needed it.

Another footstep and Jeff froze. This was no rifle. It was not a weapon at all. It looked like a . . .

Jeff nearly dropped his gun on the ground, a cry escaping his lips. His dad had survived long enough to run back to his guard hut. But that was as far as he'd made it. Jeff held his little brother there, trying to cover his eyes and keep him from seeing their dad's robotic leg. That was all that was left of him now, an expensive chunk of metal.

“What's wrong?” David asked. The boy took a few steps forward but Jeff turned and blocked his view.

“Close your eyes,” Jeff said.

“What?” the boy protested, squirming to look around Jeff.

“David, please. Close. Your. Eyes.” He reached out and grabbed the boy by the hand.

A tear rolled freely down Jeff 's face.

Jeff wanted to drop to his knees—he wanted to collapse and just give up. And if it weren't for a high-pitched shriek in the distance he probably would have. The sound pulsated through the base.

David struggled out of Jeff 's grip. “They found us!” he yelled, stumbling around Jeff.

Before Jeff could respond, David screamed again. A chill ran down Jeff 's entire body.

Fueled by adrenaline, he shouldered his rifle and scoped the eastern edges of the base. Sure enough, four of the high-jointed Spiders were scampering across the desert.

David wailed behind him. “They're going to get us! They're going to kill us!”

Jeff pulled away from the scope and ran, grabbing David by the collar and pulling him toward the guard building.

“Be quiet. Please. You have to be quiet,” Jeff whispered.

But David continued to cry. He was hyperventilating, the whimpers turning into snorts as he struggled to breathe. Jeff propped the hysterical boy against the side of the building and then reached for the door handle.

The door clicked open and Jeff entered with his assault rifle drawn. Sunlight spilled into the office. The room was clear.

“Come on!”

Jeff yanked David inside and went to swing the door shut when he heard the crack of gunfire. Peeking through the gap he watched the Spiders suddenly change course. They moved away from the road and into the sand as pulse rounds tore up the concrete.

Holding his breath, Jeff finally shut the door.

• • •

Dr. Hoffman licked his dry lips as he stared through the single porthole window in his small office. The view was breathtaking. Nothing but infinite space lay beyond the glass. There were more stars than grains of sand on Earth, and they all seemed to flicker in front of him.

Since he was a child, Hoffman was fascinated with the solar system and everything beyond. At an early age he'd been captivated by questions about the creation of the universe.

The Big Bang was the explanation most scientists accepted. But what happened before that? What created the Big Bang? And for those God-fearing people like Amy Carlson he would ask another question: Who created God? In some ways, religion and science were very similar. They both required faith and a belief in the unknown.

He believed that the Organics weren't coming back to the Red Planet. That humanity would have a chance to start over there. There was evidence that implied they had already removed all surface water from the planet and moved on, traveling through the solar system and beyond before coming to Earth. But a part of him wasn't sure if he was right. He was operating on faith.

The chirp from the display on his monitor pulled him from his thoughts. A message was coming through. He swiped the monitor.

Robert Bailey's chubby face emerged on the display. His forehead glistened with sweat. “Sir,” the man said, “Lolo has captured some images of Edwards Air Force Base in California. I think you need to see them.”

“Patch them through,” Hoffman replied.

Robert nodded and the transmission ended. Seconds later the display filled with hundreds of tiny images. Hoffman enlarged the first one and the desert landscape that surrounded Edwards Air Force Base spilled across the screen. He moved to the next picture. The first few images were of the flight control tower, dozens of hangars, and the tarmac. He moved through them quickly until he found the four-tier barbed wire fence that surrounded the abandoned missile silo where they'd built the biosphere under the base. He could see only the western edge, and quickly flicked to the next image.

Hovering over the facility was a large black ship. A mass of blue, spiderlike creatures disappeared into one of the hidden entrances to the biosphere.

“How . . .” Hoffman mumbled, squinting in pure awe. “How did they find it?”

He flinched at a rap on his door and grunted. “It's open.”

The smell of Amy's perfume filled the room. Hoffman didn't look up from the screen. The next frame revealed more aliens. He couldn't believe his eyes. If they found Edwards, then they could find the other biospheres. He'd hand-selected each facility and the one at the air force base was supposed to be the most secure.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Have you seen these, Amy?”

She strolled over to his desk and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yes. I'm sorry, Doctor.”

Hoffman sat back in his chair, shaking his head. He simply didn't understand. How could the aliens have found the biospheres? Could they detect life? Could they sense there were people hiding there?

“Tell Robert I want a visual from every biosphere on the planet. I want updates on the hour. If more have been compromised I want to know the moment it happens.”

Amy removed her hand. “Understood, sir.”

“Oh, and Amy.”

She glanced down at him.

“Tell Burns I want him on the alert for alien ships. If they can find the biospheres, then they can find us.”

After she left, Hoffman turned back to the monitor and skipped to the last image. The shot showed the sloped hill on the backside of the buried silo, where several old storm drains jetted out of the ground. Someone or something was sliding down the hill. He zoomed in for a better look.

“My god,” he said, staring at the frozen shot of a soldier in a black NTC armored suit. A member of the team had escaped out the backside of the biosphere. Hoffman felt a deep dread tugging at his gut. Had he underestimated the Organics?

CHAPTER 5

J
EFF
and David huddled next to each other until dark. They didn't sleep. They didn't eat, and they only drank enough water to keep their throats from going dry.

The gunfire had stopped minutes after the boys had pushed a desk and chair against the door, but neither of them was brave enough to see if the coast was clear.

Wiping the salty tears away with his forearm Jeff finally forced himself off the floor. The time for self-pity was over. He was tired of being scared, and tired of feeling helpless. His dad was gone, and so was everyone he'd ever known, but he couldn't cry anymore. If this was what the world had become, then he wasn't going to be some baby hiding in a shed.

He was going to get revenge. His dad would want him to be strong.

Jeff swept the beam of his flashlight over the row of lockers that hung at the back of the building. Several of the metal doors were open, and he rummaged inside. The first one was empty and he continued to the second, swinging it open and feeling for a pulse rifle or pistol or anything.

Nothing.

The soldiers must have taken all the rifles when the ships showed up
, Jeff thought.

He shone the light inside the locker, illuminating six grenades. Only, they didn't look like the kind he saw in the movies. He pulled one out. It didn't have a pin. Instead, a small button at the top looked like it activated the weapon. Holding the small gray cylinder under the flashlight, he read the label out loud.

“EMP.”

Electromagnetic pulse
, he thought to himself. He'd heard of them before. They'd used bigger versions in China years ago. He stuffed the grenade in a bag and zipped it up, continuing to the next locker.

By the time Jeff was done scavenging, he had twenty-four grenades and a pulse pistol. He'd also snagged more MREs and a jar of energy pills labeled
Jacked
. He popped one of them into his mouth and took a swig of water.

An hour later Jeff felt like he could take on an entire pack of Spiders. He organized their gear and woke David, who had finally fallen asleep. “Time to eat, bud.”

David wiped the sleep from his eyes and snarled, “I'm
not
hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

“Leave me alone,” David growled.

He curled back up on the ground and Jeff shook him.

“Hey!”

Bringing a finger to his lips Jeff said, “Keep it down. And sit up.” He handed the boy a granola bar and then tore off the end of his own. He chewed quickly and gulped the nutrients down. If they were going to fight, they needed energy.

David took a small bite and then tossed the bar on the ground. “I'm going back to sleep.”

Jeff reached out and grabbed his arm. “No, David. You aren't. Because we're leaving soon.”

“What? No! I want to stay here.”

“We can't stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to fight.”

Silence.

David looked up from his lap. “But those things will kill us.”

“Maybe,” Jeff replied. “But they're going to kill us if we stay here, too.”

“No. They won't find us here. We can stay here, Jeff. Please, let's stay here.”

“Remember what I told you before in the storage room? About how we can honor dad?”

A short nod.

“All we've done since then is run. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of running. I say we fight.”

David shook his head back and forth.

“Fine. You can stay here. I'm going to the highest building I can find and I'm going to wait until those things come. Then I'm going to shoot them. And I'm going to kill 'em.”

“No!” David protested. “You can't leave me here.”

“Then come with me.”

David let out a whimper and looked like he was going to start crying again. Then he reached for the granola bar. He stared at the wrapper and then jammed it into his mouth. Chewing with his mouth open he said, “Do you think we can really kill those things?”

Jeff nodded, although he wasn't sure exactly. All he really knew was that they had to try or eventually the monsters would kill them.

After swallowing the final bite David said, “So what are we going to do?”

“Climb onto the building where they keep the spaceships. It has a good view of the entire base. Then I'm going to use an electromagnetic grenade to lure the Spiders in. When they're in range we'll shoot them.”

David stared back with an incredulous look on his face. “I don't know . . .”

“Just trust me.”

“Okay.”

Two hours later, the sun had set, and the two boys slipped outside. It was dark now, but the moonlight was enough to guide them.

When they reached the observation tower, they ran for the hangars that housed the impressive NTC spaceships Jeff had seen on previous visits. The largest hangar was his target. That's where he was going to set up the trap.

He paused at the edge of the building, peeking around the corner at the wide set of doors. They were slightly ajar at the middle. He listened for any sound of the aliens but heard nothing.

They proceeded through the doors. Holding his breath, Jeff braced himself as he flicked on the flashlight. The beam revealed an empty hangar. No spaceships, no humans, and no monsters.

Jeff slid the doors closed behind them.

In the center of the room sat metal tables. Monitors and abandoned hardware littered their surfaces. He walked over to them.

Crouching, Jeff found boxes full of gas masks and body armor. He knew right away the suits wouldn't fit either of them. Instead, he reached for one of the masks and slipped it over his face. The smell of plastic filled his nostrils, but he didn't remove it. For some reason it made him feel safe. Invisible even. As though the aliens wouldn't be able to see him in it.

“Here,” Jeff said, handing one of them to his brother. “Put this on.”

As they prepared to move out, Jeff 's light uncovered an open hatch a few feet away. Taking a knee he pointed the beam inside. A ladder extended into the darkness and he could see a tunnel at the bottom.
Good
,
he thought,
this can be our escape route
. David stood behind Jeff and peered over his shoulder.

“Can't we just go down there instead?”

Jeff grunted his response.

They moved to a staircase. The steps led to a small office that overlooked the hangar floor. Inside, another ladder led to a hatch in the ceiling. Jeff opened it. Moonlight hit him.

“Let's go,” he said. The boys climbed onto the roof and walked across the metal surface.

“I'm scared,” David whispered, his voice muffled by the breathing apparatus.

“Me too.”

He guided his little brother to the north edge of the rooftop and set down their bags. The combination of adrenaline and energy from the pill made his heart race. It felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest.

When they'd set up their gear and weapons, Jeff reached for the bag of grenades. He wanted to get started as soon as possible, knowing that his courage wouldn't last all night.

“You ready, David?”

He shook his head just as Jeff expected him to. “If things get bad we retreat into the building and into that tunnel.”

“Okay.”

He reached for his brother's hand and then pulled him into a strong hug. “I love you, David. Dad would be proud of us.”

“I love you, too.”

As soon as they pulled away, Jeff reached inside the bag, pushed the button on the grenade, and tossed it as far as he could into the desert.

• • •

Twenty biospheres in four days. Hoffman couldn't believe the situation report. Each image showed the same type of black ship hovering over a buried biosphere, blue spiders swarming into an opening they'd made. He felt completely defeated. The Easter eggs he'd left for humanity were failing. One by one.

Hoffman had sealed himself in his quarters and was staring through the porthole window. Every time his monitor chirped, he feared the worst. That another biosphere had gone off-line. The thought filled him with overwhelming dread. He'd known all along that the military wouldn't be able to stop the Organics. But he'd hoped his biospheres would be safe. He'd put so much work into finding the perfect locations and filling the buried bunkers with the most capable men and woman the human race had to offer.

And in the end, the aliens had found them. Soon there wouldn't be anyone left. It was an odd feeling, knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn't help anyone back on Earth. Sure, the submarine under the command of Captain Rick Noble was monitoring the biospheres, but there was little that man could do for any of them. By now the captain probably knew the truth. That humanity's days were numbered. The doomsday clock was ticking.

Hoffman wondered exactly what was going through Noble's head. He was a strong man, the son of a navy commander Hoffman had known personally. He remembered how paranoid the man had been in the years before his death, always talking about the apocalypse.

Had Commander Noble known what Hoffman now knew?

Sighing, he pushed the thoughts away. There wasn't anything he could do about Earth now besides sit back and watch all his plans fail. He had to look to the future.

Hoffman relaxed in his chair. Punching in a few commands, he loaded the confidential NTC database filled with images of the Mars colony.

Clusters of white-domed buildings peppered the alien landscape. Beyond the facilities there were massive cylinders.
The terraformers
, he thought with a half smile. They would be fully functioning by now, slowly making the planet hospitable to human life. He filtered through the pictures, stopping on the farm of solar panels and then the silos where robots were already storing and preserving the first batches of crops.

By the time Hoffman's and the other ships arrived, the colony would be fully prepared for the human race. There would be food, power, and most important, oxygen.

A message from Robert rolled across the top of the screen. Hoffman read it aloud. “Biosphere 21 has gone off-line. Will transfer images shortly.”

Hoffman replied with his own message. “Don't bother.”

There was no response. Flicking off the screen, Hoffman walked back over to the window. The dread he had felt earlier had vanished. It was replaced with hope. The fight for Earth may have been lost and the biospheres a failure, but the view of space reminded Hoffman that the future of the human race was on Mars. And that's
all
that mattered.